


Umbrus Nocturni

by squiggly_squid



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood, Body Horror, Dark, F/M, Graphic Body Horror, Graphic Description, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Supernatural Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 68,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/pseuds/squiggly_squid
Summary: An evil haunts Omega, one from superstitious tales of old, and it'll take three different soldiers in their own rights to save a station that doesn't want or deserve saving. Perhaps, along the way, they can save themselves. Eventual Garrus/FemShep. Themes may be darker than my other work. (AU)





	1. An Introduction To Darkness

> "There was one great tomb more lordly than all the rest; huge it was, and nobly proportioned. On it was but one word, ' _ **Dracula.'**_ _"_   **-** _Bram Stoker, Dracula_

* * *

" _Lieutenant Shepard, I've looked at your evaluations sent over by Doctors Slavik and Jain. I agree with their recommendation for discharging you."_

" _Come on, Captain." A sigh. "Can't you put in a good word? Say I'm still fit to serve under you? You requested me before the damn doctor reports."_

" _Shepard … I'm going to be blunt with you. I can try to talk to anyone I can to keep you in service, but you have to look me in the eye and tell me you can sleep at night without nightmares."_

"… _."_

" _Shepard …."_

" _I can, just give me a chance."_

" _Is this with or without the medications? The therapy?" A pause. "You can't, can you? … I'm sorry, Shepard. I can't put my neck out for you if I can't trust that you're at the top of your game. Not with a clear conscience, not with men relying on you."_

" _But sir-"_

" _I'm sorry …."_

Jai stares up at the ceiling of her minuscule apartment, body slick with sweat from the nightmares that never go away, never let her rest. The Captain's words ring in her ears with each of her silent questions of 'why?'

Why did she suffer the same nightmares every night, hear the screams and pleas of an enemy she shouldn't feel any guilt over? Why did the faces of Mindor merge with the images of Torfan, turning into a festering wound on her soul? Why did the Alliance leave her to suffer the pain of the disaster that came from their orders and the inner turmoil it left in her?

She should, by all rights, feel vindicated over taking down so many batarians after what slavers did to Mindor, for slaughtering her family, but couldn't. Her heart was heavy from the cries of mercy she ignored, of fellow soldiers that fell at her persistence. All under the claim of merely following orders, of achieving the Alliance's goal with any means necessary. Her regret weighed on her shoulders and came in the form of countless faces wearing accusing stares within her nightmares.

A sob wracks through her body as she hears whispers from the dead and she clenches her eyes, letting the tears trail down from the corners of her eyes. A form shifts on her small bed beside her, pushing the blankets off as it moves closer to her at the sound of her distress. She hiccups and open her eyes when the light weight settles on her, looking down to the face of her companion. Her lips tremble at the look of awareness in the eyes staring back up at her, at the  _knowing_  in the inhuman eyes.

Swallowing thickly, Jai lifts a hand to pet her one true companion, the one who always seems to know when she's falling into an episode and is there to pull her out. "Did I wake you?" she asks her faithful companion, Jimmu.

She chuckles weakly when the shiba inu makes not a sound, merely laying his head on her chest. She runs her hand down his back, feeling and just focusing on his soft, copper fur against her shaking hand. A therapist suggested him for Jai, claiming she could find a well trained dog meant to be able to handle cases of post traumatic stress disorder like hers. She hated to admit to having the issue, but she loved Jimmu's company, his never ending devotion. Even if he was trained for the position, his calming presence made her feel like he actually cared.

It's nice to be wanted and loved even after all the horrible things she had done.

Jai takes a few minutes to stroke her hand over Jimmu's back, letting the strands tickle her sweaty palm. He must feel the growing ease in her as he seems to perk up, his ears a little higher on his head and tail giving a few small wiggles. Her smiles comes easier as she watches him and turns her pets into a scratch at that spot on his neck that always seems out of his reach. She huffs a laugh when his serious expression shifts as he sits up, tilting into her touch as he kicks a foot. When she releases him and shifts her weight, he stands over her thighs as she sits up, waiting as if to make sure she's okay to get up and start her day.

Chuckling, she cups his face and kisses the top of his head as she strokes his cheeks with her thumbs. She closes her eyes and keeps her head lowered as she whispers. "Thank you."

Without him, she'd be lost.

Seemingly satisfied with her condition, Jimmu wags his tail and lets her swivel on the bed to drop her feet onto the floor. He stays when she stands and stretches her arms up, arching her back and groaning. She crosses the distance between her bed and bathroom, stepping onto the cold tile of the tiny bathroom. There's just enough room to walk between the shower stall and sink and toilet across from it, and she reaches in to turn on the water.

She strips off her large sleeping shirt and panties as the water runs long enough to flush out the worst of the dirt from the pipes and heat up as high as it'll go. It's still a bit on the cold side and Jai shivers when she steps under the spray, exhaling heavily. If there's one good thing about the temperature, it's that it forces her to hurry and clean so she can get out, dry off, and warm herself up. That and she can save some extra credits on her rent by using less than her allotted water amount.

As she steps out and grabs her towel, she glances out to see Jimmu hop off the bed and come to the doorway as if to check up on her. She chuckles at just how much of a worrywort he seems to be and walks over to him, wrapping the towel around herself.

"Yes, yes. I'm okay," she says to him, smiling as she passes him. "I can shower on my own."

She knows that's not completely true, and is aware that he knows it too, but she tries to act normal whenever she can. It's good practice for when she has to go out and try to help people at the clinic.

Humming to herself and trying to use the mindless sound to clear the last of the fog left by her fitful sleep from her mind, Jai rubs the towel across her skin before bending down and scrubbing her white hair dry. She tosses the towel over the back of her single chair to dry and goes to her closet in search of something she can wear that won't be missed when it gets blood - or worse - all over it. She goes with her doctor scrubs. She can always get more from the clinic's supply, and it saved her few real clothes. Tossing the chosen clothes on her bed, she digs out some clean panties and a bra and pulls them on.

Grabbing her slate grey pants first, she tugs them up her legs and latches them closed. She pulls on a thin tank top because the fabric of her top is decidedly not waterproof. Neither is the thin undershirt, but she feels a bit better knowing there is one extra layers for any fluids to have to soak through before getting to her skin.

She'll take any naive sense of comfort where she can get it these days.

Jai slides her arms through the long sleeves of the doctor's jacket and zips up the closure that runs along the side of stomach and chest. Sitting on the bed, she pulls on her socks and shoes, thankful that at least they are somewhat waterproof. Last thing she'd really want is to have to walk around with something  _not_ water in her shoes, soaking into her socks. She learned quickly that it's never  _just_ water that can soak into her shoes at the clinic.

Once dressed, Jai goes into her bathroom and opens the mirror cabinet, pulling out her hairbrush and elastic ties. She brushes her hair back and up, snapping the tie around it, taking a look over her work to make sure it's all pulled back and out of her way. An unfortunate thing about having such light hair is how easy it is to see when gunk gets on it, and she'd much rather limit just how many questionable substances get into it.

Without any time to make something to eat, she heads into the corner of her apartment closest to a kitchen and pulls out a box of protein granola bars from the single overhead cabinet. Jimmu hears the crinkle of the wrapper when she opens it and rushes over, but she snorts with a shake of her head.

"Oh no," she says as she reaches into the cabinet beneath the sink and grabs the plastic container of his dog food pellets. " _This_ is your breakfast." Sticking the granola bar in her mouth to free her hand, she pulls Jimmu's bowl out of the sink, sets it down, and pours some of the dried food into it. She mumbles a 'eat up' around her food, chuckling at the dejected look she can swear she sees in his eyes as he comes closer and starts to eat.

Chewing a piece of her own breakfast, Jai leans against the counter and watches Jimmu eat. She's not late, per se, but she'd much rather get out of the house and on her way before she can manage to run into the real asshole of a neighbor she has. She doesn't know why, but she can swear the man looks at Jimmu like he's an easy meal and the thought chills her to the bone. She can't control the few times her companion has to be taken out of the apartment to be able to relieve himself - she tried litter training like the extranet swears is possible, but the feat isn't a complete success yet - so she does her best to avoid the man.

She finishes her breakfast and manages to drink a glass of water by the time Jimmu cleans his bowl, lapping up some of his water. He steps back and looks up at her expectantly, but she knows she can't fall for that sweet face. She's fed him too much before and he seemed sluggish all day, if even a bit uncomfortable. No matter how much he liked the extra food, she can't stand the thought of seeing him in that condition.

She's selfish in her need for him to be in top shape.

Shaking her head, she closes her eyes and takes a few steady breaths. Jimmu is her everything just as she hopes she is for him. They only have each other to get through the mess in their lives, in the situation she got them into. She knows he'd have easily found another who needed his help, who he could help with his calming presence, but she'd be nothing without him. Too many times had she tried to end it all before her therapy finally led to him coming into her life. The least she could do was make sure he was healthy and comfortable despite his puppy eyes convincing her otherwise.

A weight settling on her legs draws her mind back to the present and she looks down, seeing Jimmu, his front paws on her shins and ever-knowing eyes glued to her. She smiles weakly and he steps off when she leans down to run her hand over his head. He saves her every second of every day and it's frightening to imagine a life without him.

"Hey. What do you say we head to work early? I'm sure Mordin and Daniel won't complain."

* * *

Garrus hears the commotion behind him, the distressed shouts that would normally fall on deaf ears drawing his attention as he walks through the throng of Omega's crowds. Head down, he turns to slide between the flow of people in opposing directions and glances back to the voices and watches a small group of vorcha surrounding a younger asari and human couple. In one quick moment, he easily finds the gang of screeching and hissing vorcha have already drawn blood from the asari and taken a blade to her partner's throat.

_Just one more mugging in an ocean of faceless corruption born in complacency._

Taking an alley that wraps around one of the stalls - a batarian merchant screaming his native tongue, rough and guttural, and not giving Garrus enough mind to stop in his near harassment of passersby. Even the simple act of buying goods comes with its dangers, merchants out to rob anyone unaware with a smile and sweetened word. Garrus could create a ripple in the economy of Omega, turn it to better benefit the simple inhabitants just trying to make a living when the universe has otherwise abandoned them. He doesn't, however, because he knows regulation of the sort would take the full effort he's using to take down the more obvious evil of the station.

It's disgusting, like an oozing wound on the galaxy, and every person he takes down, that deserves death, only feed on the infection. It doesn't matter the species, but vorcha make it their goal to feast on the injured, scavenge from the dead left in Omega's wake.

The alley takes him around and back towards his targets, coming out a short distance behind the ongoing assault. The asari has devolved into wordless pleas as she holds out her hands, palms up in the obvious gesture of having nothing to save her mate, to assuage their attackers and end the vicious encounter. Garrus knows this station well enough that these women's fates were sealed the second the vorcha narrowed their sights on them.

No matter of collateral will save their lives.

Closing the gap between himself and the scene, he knows there's too many people around to use a gun to take care of his targets. That won't prove to be a problem, however, because he's had plenty of past experiences on the station to come up with other methods of killing. With his hand to hand training, taking them down with a blade will be easy.

Let them die with fear at the end of his blade, never knowing that they've had the worse luck of being caught in Archangel's sights.

Drawing a blade into each hand from his hips, Garrus moves like water as he pushes past the last of the crowd before him. The blades slide cleaning into the backs of two vorcha's heads, one at the end of each hand, and they fall before he's even noticed. Another turns to him in surprise when a body collapses against him and Garrus relishes in the fact that vorcha are too stupid to understand the ultimate use for taking a hostage. When the vorcha draws his blade away from the woman's throat, Garrus closes the distance and kicks the two before the damn thing can grow a brain.

He knows that the move sends the woman down with her assailant, but she'll live from Garrus' kick. A bruised side is better than a slit throat and she doesn't have to like the way he saves their lives, he'll get the job done no matter what her and her mate's opinion.

Spinning, he slices the throat of the charging vorcha as it shoves the asari aside to come to its partner's aid. Blood spurts from the thing's neck before it can realize what's happened and it hisses, the sound gurgling as the injury only slows it. It's all the time Garrus needs to close the gap between them, knee it to cripple it further and flip the knife in his hand to slam down into the vorcha's head.

The last has crawled up to its feet and charges, but Garrus' armor takes the blow across his arm guard. He growls and punches it in the face with one fist before slashing the opposite blade through its face. It screeches and jumps back, brandishing its own blade most likely stolen from the body of someone who clearly knows their blades. At the end of this, Garrus might consider even taking it for himself.

_It's not like the vorcha will be using it._

He side steps the incoming stab and watches as it needs a second to recover, preparing his blade. It spins quickly and screams, charging in its fury. It's all Garrus needs as he moves into the charge and angles himself aside while he swings his arms under the vorcha's raised blade. His blade sinks into the vorcha's unguarded stomach and it drops the blade in surprise, snarling as Garrus twists it.

Yanking his blade from its target's abdomen, Garrus elbows the vorcha right where its neck connects to its back. He sees its body tenses for a fraction of second before it yells and falls to the ground. For what's next, Garrus doesn't need his blades as he circles the vorcha. Growling, he lifts his boot and slams it down on the vorcha's head, hearing the skull collapse with a loud crack. It doesn't move when he lifts his foot, even less chance than its companions to be able to heal this kind of wound as bone and soft brain matter slough off the sole of his boot.

He knows he'll have to clean his blades later, but a quick drag of them across the patch of material at the crook of his elbows will have to do. Slipping them into their sheaths, he turns to the sobbing women and looks them over. He hums when the asari looks up into his eyes, a strange sort of fear and gratefulness within the deep green of them.

He doesn't expect a 'thank you' on this station, let alone after kicking one of them to down his target. His goal on Omega is to work in the shadows, to rid it of the corruption one kill at a time, and make it better for those living here whether they know it or not. Being well known will only get him into danger and frighten those so used to there being no other way. People aren't easily swayed towards what's different, too afraid of change to get out of their comfort zones and do anything to make it better.

* * *

Nihlus nursed his second beer, its slightly too cold bottle making his palm numb as he takes his time to enjoy the taste of the expensive drink. He had no intent to get drunk, but enjoy his first night back on the Citadel from a mission. He just had no time to act like a juvenile, learning long ago that life as a Spectre came with plenty of unexpected calls from the Council. He was lucky to manage even a single night to himself.

_Maybe not completely by myself …. The Taetrian beauty definitely looks like she could be up for a night together._

Catching her amber eyes, he lifts his bottle in greeting and she smiles, tilting her head to give him a glimpse of her tantalizing neck. He rumbles in approval and waves down the bartender as he passes. When the human man stops and looks to him in question, Nihlus jerks his chin towards her.

"Another of whatever she's drinking. On me," he says, slipping a chit on the bar before standing and making his way around to her. As he slips into the space she makes for him, he matches her smile with a smirk of his own. "My name's Nihlus."

"Heria," she responds, purring as she makes no effort to hide her examination of him.

When her eyes return to his, he growls under his breath. "See something you like?"

"Yeah. A lot." She ignores her fresh glass of whatever she was having and leans closer to him.

Nihlus thanks the  _Spirits_ that she doesn't smell or look too inebriated to truly be aware enough to consent completely. Last thing he wants is to take a female that's too drunk to truly enjoy the night, turian beliefs on stress relief aside. He's nothing if not considerate of his partner's own pleasure.

He closes the gap and sets his beer on the counter. "I can say much the same," he says with a low thrum to his subvocals and smirks when her pupils dilate for a split second. "Do you want to finish your drink or hurry up and get out of here?"

Heria growls and stands up. " _Spirits_ forsake the damn drink. I want to be well aware of this." She grins and steps into his personal space, chirping and tilting her head to show off her throat again.

The sight sends heat straight down his spine and he growls, hand wrapping around her waist. He doesn't often find many females who skip the game of teasing and making him mad with lust. He doesn't hate it by any means, but he just doesn't have the time. Not when he could be pulled into another mission where he's working alone, too deep in danger to get any relief.

Nihlus hums as he dips he head to her cowl and runs his tongue up her pulse. She tastes salty, her hide soft against his rough tongue and vocals pure desire as she lifts onto the tips of her toes to keep contact with his mouth. He chuckles roughly, but the sound grinds to a halt with the sensation of vibration and flash of light against his wrist. Cursing under his breath, he steps away from her and glances to his omni-tool.

He silences his tool from everything but emergencies everytime he manages to steal time to himself, and the only reason for it to activate involves yet another trek out into space to clean up the mess no one else wants to touch. His companion rumbles in question, but he sighs and shakes his head, giving her a feigned smile and trill in apology. While he really was looking forward to the stress relief, he knows he doesn't owe her any kind of explanation.

Not that he'd give her any, like he could.

Turning away from her, he starts to push his way through the faceless mass of dancers and drunken patrons grinding to the pounding beat of the club's music. The sound and presence of so many makes his plates itch as he switches into Spectre Kryik, the alert and call to arms more important that relief. If he still sought pleasure over duty, he'd be no better than the mercs who birthed him. He has his moments of privacy, but he'd be nothing but filth if not for the struggle he endured to gain the position he's in.

When he manages to get out of the club and into the quieter expanse of the bustling Zakera Ward, he opens his tool's interface to check the caller before he opens an actual line of communication. Usually, he sends a message to the Council's communication specialist to alert them of his position in a non-secure location. It gives him time to get somewhere to hear their most definitely sensitive mission parameters.

This hail, however, comes from Saren, his former mentor.

Nihlus hums at the interesting contact, wondering what's gotten so important that his mentor has need to break radio silence to contact him. The two have a civil work relationship, but their  _alternative_ form of work keeps them apart and in positions where outgoing hails often put them at more risk than benefit. With how focused Saren is on this self-imposed mission, the radio silence has been at his behest than Nihlus'.

Nihlus knows better that to imagine this instance has come about out of anything close to friendly curiosity. Saren wouldn't be contacting him directly unless whatever he's found in important.

Opening the call, he finds that the older Spectre's call will be audio only, another reason for Nihlus to believe this hail contains some important information. He doesn't get a chance to acknowledge Saren before the older turian speaks.

"Follow the coordinates. Be there in ten minutes."

That's all Saren gives before closing the call just as abruptly. It tells Nihlus exactly what this call is about and he feels his blood chill at the idea. A greater mission than any laid down by the Council calls to him, one that must happen within the darkness lest the universe fall to discord. It's one he, too, would have been blind to had he been trained by any other Spectre, and he doesn't know if he should thank or damn Saren for it.

Swiping his tool over a skycar terminal, he overrides it with his Spectre codes. What he's doing needs to remain cast in shadows, and he'd rather wipe the data from his trip. Anyone searching will not find his credit chit's information in the purchasing data, and his Spectre status would instantly block out any further search.

He gets into the skycar before the doors swing open completely, ducking into its darkened cab before pulling the door back down. He doesn't have time to wait for it to close on its slow hydraulics, too focused on crossing the distance between himself and his destination. From his position, it'll take him to the final second of his time limit to arrive, and he'd much rather see what Saren finds so important than anger his mentor, be left behind, and lose any chance of being part of something that's deemed necessary of his inclusion.

Arriving at the back alley just as the last minute of his allotted time ticks over, Nihlus steps out into the darkened path between warehouses and walks to the exact location of his coordinates. Saren is nothing if not exacting in his instructions, but Nihlus has to wonder if his own time keeping is off and his mentor has already moved on. It's not a thought that he likes.

"You're late." Saren steps out of a darkened alcove ten paces ahead of Nihlus' position.

"I'm on time," Nihlus counters, watching as his mentor approaches. The fact that Saren is still in his light armor speaks of the urgency of this meeting. "What is it?"

"I found the one you let out of your sights."

Nihlus stiffens. This conversation is as he thought, one of import and soaked in the venom of their secret lives, their secret aim to protect the galaxy from behind closed doors. 'The one he let out of his sights' can only be one person, Cydian Nemodius. The woman made of more than the blue blood of any natural turian, one that had poison in her veins and an insatiable hunger.

A Umbrus Nocturni, an impossible thing that ancient turians once worshiped, blinded to the fact that they are nothing but monstrous parasites. Many species had something hidden within their kind, beings that seemed otherworldly and the stuff of legends and nightmares, and turians were no different. To many, Nocturni were nothing but superstition, ghosts of a time when science fell short of belief. Nihlus didn't need to know the exacts of science behind their existence to know the dangers, to find the need to hunt down those only see as madness.

How blissfully ignorant the universe was when evil walked in the darkness so abundant in space. In expanding outward and connecting to other species, the evil found no limit to its food supply.

Cydian had slipped from Nihlus' talons long ago when he found himself in the unlikely sights of a justicar. While hunting down the Nocturni, he was being hunted himself. He knew no matter of explanation could be heard or taken for reason by the justicar and her blindly strict Code, so he had chosen to run than try to keep on Nemodius' tracks and lose his own life.

Seeing the chance to right his mistakes, Nihlus nods. "Where is she?"

"Omega." When Saren turns to leave, he glances back over his shoulder. "Make sure you kill her this time."


	2. Head Like A Hole

Omega’s dark, loud, and smells of funeral pyres. The perfect environment for Nemodius to hunt, where no one will notice if a handful of people disappear here and there.  _ Spirits,  _ with how everyone keeps their heads down save for those touching him and begging for a spare credit, Cydian could already have started a new pack of Nocturni and no one would be the wiser. This station has no chance if Nihlus can’t find himself allies.

How does he find someone who gives a damn on a place like Omega and among the masses of either mercenaries out for blood and credits or poor fools just trying to survive day to day. There is no ‘making a living on Omega,’ only survival for these people, and they don’t even know a war for their lives is on the horizon. Blindness and ignorance will lead to this station’s annihilation unless Nihlus finds anyone willing to fight for these nameless, meaningless faces. Surely there must be someone around who’s either stupid enough to have pride in this place or - worse - out to risk their lives for the glory of taking down the beast.

Nihlus is willing to accept either option so long as it gave him a better chance at his own survival.

He’s heard only rumors of Omega, of the ruler and her egocentric ways. He knows he must play to her amusement to get anything, be it acceptance of a Spectre on the station or aid of any kind - of which he’s skeptical. Expecting her to call on him no matter what the circumstances of his arrival, Nihlus heads directly for her proclaimed throne in the form of a foul, bawdy-looking club, Afterlife. He knows her men by the mere looks he’s given as they rove over his armor and weapons, challenge in their eyes, and he lets them present like the leashed animals they are. If the queen of Omega wanted him dead, he’d already be laying in a pool of his own blood.

“You, Spectre,” a batarian says as he stops Nihlus, putting his body between the Nihlus and the huddle of bodies waiting for admittance into the club. “Aria wants to see you.” His four eyes look Nihlus up and down as his curls his lips. “Don’t cause any trouble.”

“Noted.” 

Nihlus is short with his acceptance of the silent command to approach the throne at Aria’s beckon. He doesn’t like being treated like just another pest under her hovering foot, but he knows he must play the part of requesting admittance if he’s to get anywhere near finding Cydian. If anything, he may even be able to convince Aria of the benefit of letting him hunt down a parasite like a Nocturni and getting rid of it before it spread throughout her pitiful excuse of a ‘kingdom.’

He passes the mass of waiting bodies begging for admittance like peasants into the court of their overbearing queen and walks down the path lit by artificial flames licking across the walls. The bass of the club grows with each step towards Afterlife’s heart and it assaults his ears immediately when the heavy doors slide open with a low whine of metal against metal. The center of the club towers a holographic image of an asari’s naked form as she moves in some lewd, provocative insult of dancing. All around are suspended cages with more dancers, their bodies glistening with fluids that could be as innocent as oil and alcohol, or as vile as bodily fluids.

Shoving aside a drunken turian as he stumbles into the way, Nihlus barely hears a shouted insult over the heavy music. He ignores the man who seems to have nothing more than a pathetic word of offense in his direction, not bothered by someone who’d just as soon lose his gizzard all over the floor than actually put up an annoying fight. The show of force does earn Nihlus plenty of room as he walks through the club, the crowd parting like frightened prey trying to avoid his sights.

Nihlus finds it ironic that they think  _ he’s  _ the predator they have to fear here on Omega. This place may be more hopeless than he imagined.

He climbs up towards Aria’s platform and stops as her entourage of guards circle him. He ignores the scan one of them preforms, watching her face instead as she looks on in disinterest. Apparently decided as not worth their overly exaggerated show of intimidation, the guards part to let Nihlus approach. He keeps his head up despite the very rumor telling him to cower before Aria, to beg for her approval. Under the circumstances of what brought him here in the first place, Aria holds no threat when something much more dangerous roams her kingdom, prowls just out of her ever watching eye.

“Sit,” Aria orders, motioning the couch perpendicular to her own. Narrowing her eyes as she looks him over, she turns away with an air of superiority. “You have ten seconds to explain to me why a Spectre thinks he has the balls to be on my station.”

Nihlus hums and straightens his back as much as he can sitting down among her kind. “I’m not here on at a Spectre’s capacity.” At his words, he sees the thin swipe of paint across her brow arch, but she doesn’t so much as glance his way. “I’m here hunting something the Council has no idea exists. Something that’s turned your station into its feeding grounds.”

“Oh?” She finally looks to him. “You’re new to Omega, so I’ll explain one thing to you. Omega doesn’t give a shit about your little ‘hunt.’” Standing, she walks to the edge of her platform to look over her kingdom of corruption and ignorance. “Omega isn’t like your precious Citadel. There are no laws but one,” she says as she turns to him, her lip twitching in a scowl, “Don’t  _ fuck _ with Aria.”

Nihlus exhales a long breath through his nose. “I’m not trying to change the station, merely track and kill someone who eluded me and is trying to hide here. If a Spectre being here is what bothers you-”

“It doesn’t ‘bother’ me.’” She scoffs and flips her hand in the air before returning to her seat. “Spectres are a mere annoyance. They make messes on my station.” Watching his face, she smirks. “Spectres like your mentor, Saren. He was here on a ‘hunt’ as well.” She snorts dismissively. “The two of you can’t seem keep your shit off my station.”

Nihlus isn’t surprised that she would know Saren, or even that she would know the man is his mentor. Aria has eyes and ears all over this station, shifting through the muck of uselessness for scraps of anything to use as power over anyone as she deems fit. Nodding, he clicks his mandibles against his jaw, knowing well of the time when Saren chased a Nocturni here when the young parasite thought it could hide here in the masses.

“If you know Saren and the reason he was here, then you know mine. I’m after a Nocturni.”

She hums and leans back on her couch, crossing her hands across her torso. “You turians are an awful people at keeping your shit under control.” Huffing, she lifts her chin. “Figures Saren would train more to keep on this legacy shit about hunting Nocturni down. Still, I fail to see how this is my problem. It hasn’t tried to eat  _ me _ , so why should I care if it’s here?” She waves a hand across the platform at her men. “If you paid any attention coming in here, you’d notice that people on Omega can do as they please. If this  _ thing  _ wants to eat people, then be my guest. It stays out of my way, then it can eat whatever and whoever it wants. But  _ you _ ,” she adds with a narrow-eyed look, “you will come in here on your grand quest and cause trouble. You Spectres always do even when you claim to be on a personal mission.”

“I can’t guarantee I won’t make a mess, but, like you said, if I stay out of your way, I should be able to do as I please,” he says, turning her logic back on her, which she easily notices and scoffs.

“Your attitude will wear on my nerves quickly.” She curls her lip. “So don’t make a habit of it. I’d hate to string you up from the catwalks.”

Nihlus rumbles at the thought, not wanting to really feel the end of her biotics and rage. Nodding, he looks at the ground between them before returning his gaze to her. “I could ask something of you, if you’d listen.”

“You waltz in here and then ask  _ me _ for favors?” She barks an unamused laugh. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

“It’s not so much a favor as information.” Nihlus clenches his jaw at her arched brow, forcing himself to relax and watch his words. “You have eyes and ears everywhere. You might know anyone that goes against the norm of this place. Someone who actually gives a shit what happens to people here.”

He knows he has just bitten past her elegant, asari interior and into the rotten core as she stiffens and lets a flicker of biotics shimmer across her form. “Your fucking stupidity will get you killed.” She relaxes, face shifting into the expressionless mask of indifference. “You won’t find anyone here of that nature. Omega only has mercs, and not a damn one of them would just help you out of the kindness of their hearts.” She snorts and says, “They’d just as soon kill you as  _ help _ .”

Fighting not to sigh in disappointment, Nihlus balls his hands into fists. He knew there wouldn’t be a single person on this pathetic station, but he admits to having a fraction of naive hope. It’s better to grant himself some hope at times or suffer the fate of a tattered psyche like his mentor from decades of beating down any trace of faith.

He hears Aria sigh loudly, her shoulders bouncing in exaggeration. “Fine. Since you look like an absolutely pathetic child sitting there, I’ll give you one name to look into. Archangel.”

Blinking in surprise at the very  _ human _ name, he rumbles curiously. He knows of a human religion involving otherworldly beings by the name, but doesn’t expect it to make any sort of appearance here, in this place of living decay. Still, he’ll accept the little bit of information given.

“Archangel.” Testing his luck, he flicks his mandibles and hums softly. “Is there anything else you’d tell me?”

She makes an insufferable grumble as she flicks her eyes up to the ceiling before looking back down to him. “He’s some kind of vigilante with a fucking deathwish. He has a band of other idiots who all think they can - fuck, I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking they can accomplish. They make it a habit of getting in the ways of the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse, to name a few.” She shrugs, obviously having no opinion of Archangel one way or another. “Ask the dancers for information. I’m not your fucking informant.”

With that, she swats a hand through the air in an obviously irritated dismissal and Nihlus growls low as he stands, frustrated that no one on this entire  _ Spirits  _ forsaken station’s willing to open their eyes. He can’t blame people for wanting to imagine nothing is amiss, that the galaxy isn’t dark and waiting for one little mistake before devouring them whole, but those will power should be different. They should give a damn that evil sniffs at their toes, waiting for the one moment of complacency before sinking its teeth in their throats.

It’s now that his mind’s no longer zeroed in on getting through to his goal that the smell of the club truly surrounds him. Scents of sex, sweat, liquor, and various bodily fluids coat his lungs, viscous and making him gag. This night doesn’t look like it’ll be a pleasant one where he’ll manage to get what he needs and get out before he drowns in the music and thickness in the air.

Approaching the bar, Nihlus stops himself from leaning an elbow on the mysteriously slick looking surface and instead, waves the bartender over. When the burly krogan, head plate have scalped and replaced with something looking suspiciously like metal, as if whatever butcher that tended to him merely scrapped a helmet and shoved some of the pieces in. Judging by everything he’s seen on Omega so far, he’s sure the thought isn’t far off  _ if  _ the krogan even went to anyone with even a semblance of a doctor.

When the krogan’s eyes narrow at him, Nihlus holds up a chit for the man to see, wanting him to get the picture. “I hear there’s plenty of places to get information in this club.” He holds out the chit when the krogan nods, but snatches it back with a scowl. “I’m paying top credit for something that knows a damn.”

“The information depends on the amount you’re willing to pay,” the krogan snarls as he leans over the counter and grabs the credit chit when Nihlus doesn’t make the effort to pull away. The man checks it, his expression flattening out from his glare. “Alright. I get you, turian.” Pocketing the chit, he stabs his finger through the air towards a corner of the club where an asari dancer kneels and grinds on a table before a small group. “You want Serenity.”

That she definitely went by another name once upon a time before lust overrode sense is of no surprise to Nihlus as he rumbles and holds out a hand to stop the bartender from turning away. “I know enough of informants to know I can’t just walk up and make demands.”

The bartender laughs a dry, grating sound and leers back at Nihlus. “You’re smart, I’ll give you that.” His eyes flick over Nihlus’ form, pupils dilating and constricting. “Alright. Tell her Grinder sent you.”

Watching the krogan lumber away to fetch more alcohol, Nihlus rumbles and says, “Cute” under his breath at the intimidation meant to come from the name. He’s sure it has more to do with how he lost the head plate than anything, an attempt to turn the weakness into something to fear, but he’s long since found krogan’s ways of using injuries for nicknames anything to worry about. 

Things came into better focus when he found out there was something out there just as strong as a krogan, but meaner, faster, and overall deadlier.

He leaves the bar and walks towards the booth crowded by a group of batarians, krogan, and a handful of humans all drooling at ‘Serenity’s’ feet. She manages to see Nihlus first as he makes his way over and her eyes lock with his as she watches him come, smiling in feigned seduction as she crooks a finger at him to approach. She pays little mind to the entranced group on men as her body moves without finesse or direct attention to them, her attention solely on Nihlus, the obvious oddity in the club by his appearance and lack of involvement in anything the club has to offer.

He also wouldn’t put it past her having seen him beckoned to and speaking with Aria, and being attracted by curiosity.

“Hey,” one of the humans barks as he notices Serenity no longer has any interest in his group or their credits. His head jerks towards Nihlus and he bares his teeth in a drunken snarl. “Fuck off! We paid good money for her!”

The others shout agreements that fall unheard as Nihlus stops just before Serenity. He hums as she gives him a blatant once over that spreads her lips in a full, hungry grin. On any other day, he’d forgo any talking to take her and feast on her, drown in her scents and voice. Perhaps, after he gets past the honey in her words to taste truth, he may do just that, but getting information comes first. Despite the ignorance heavy in the minds of Omega, Nihlus needs to know more if he’s to help a people that don’t see their very lives hang in the balance.

“Aren’t you the handsomest turian to walk in here tonight?” Serenity runs a hand up the smooth plating of his armor.

“Grinder sent me,” he says, ignoring the rising tempo in the lust fueled group’s shouted insults, “Said you would have what I need.”

She hums, violet painted lips quirking in a knowing smirk. “I have  _ all sorts  _ of things you could need.”

“Hey! Bitch!” A krogan stands from the booth and grabs her arm, yanking her attention back as he snarls. “ _ We  _ paid for you, not this skull-faced fuck.”

Serenity narrows her eyes for a flicker of a moment before she smiles sweetly. “Of course,” she says just before the static heat of biotics surround the krogan, making him hiss as his eyes widen. “Let me show you what you paid for, then.”

The krogan howls as energy flows around his body, sending him to his knees and emptying his stomachs all over the ground at Nihlus’ feet. Nihlus growls in disgust and steps away, giving Serenity a glare, which she surprisingly returns with a somewhat apologetic shrug. She releases the krogan to fall into his own mess and turns to the others, cowering together like a pack of prey at the feet of the lavender skinned predator.

“Anyone else have anything to say, or should I call over one of the girls?” Serenity holds out a hand for Nihlus to take, hoping down off the table with an air of superiority over all of them despite her nearly nude state. As far as he’s concerned, Nihlus doesn’t feel the need to correct her attitude with the facts of truth when it would only delay how quickly he can obtain information for his search for Archangel. 

When not a single one of the group makes a sound beyond the soft, shaky murmurs, Serenity nods and waves out a hand to a passing waitress. When the young human approaches, Serenity leans close and whispers something Nihlus cannot parse among the loud symphony of bass and wordless chatter of Afterlife. Leaving the waitress to tend to her previous patrons, Serenity then turns her seductive smile to him as she gently urges him towards the closest thing to privacy in this place, a solitary booth in a darkened alcove. She shoves glasses aside and guides him to sit, but instead of taking place on the table, she climbs into his lap.

He growls when she moves above him, torn between being upset that she’d invade his space without prompt and arousal. The mix is heady either way, but he calms his blood from racing immediately. Information is his goal and the foremost thought consuming his mind. All else can come after, when he can steal a moment to tend to his needs before returning to his hunt.

“Now you have me.” She speaks softly enough to not be heard outside of their close contact, but loud enough to make it to his ears atop of the thumping of music. “So what information can I offer you, handsome? And how much are you willing to pay?”

“Enough to get the truth,” he responds, voice deep as he loops his hands around her in order to type onto his omni-tool before showing her an amount he’s ready to transfer onto a credit chit. “The more you give me, the more I’ll give you.”

Serenity grins, lifting her brow to make the white patterns sweeping across her forehead arch. “You aren’t playing.” Leaning closer, she starts to grind her ass into his lap. “You’ll get the truth from me, then. Let’s see how long you want to make me sing.”

“Archangel.” Nihlus runs a hand up her spine, pressing her chest against his armored one. “I want everything you have on him.”

Her chuckle is deep as she lifts her head, eyes closing as she lays her hands on his shoulders and takes a moment to just grind her clothed groin against him. “Them,” she says, lowering her head. “Archangel is both a person and group.”

“Person?”

She grins and shrugs. “Could be anyone. No one knows. Could be human, turian,” she starts, leaning closer to whisper against his ear canal, “asari …. Not even the amount of people in his gang is known. Only that there are fewer than should be possible to pull off what they do.”

“For an informant, you aren’t giving me any true answers.” The rumbles in frustration when she tsks at him and leans back to dance on his lap to the beat of the music.

“You just aren’t listening enough.” Her hand cups his mandible, a flicker of biotics sending a tingling sensation across the side of his face. “Archangel’s a vigilante out to clean up Omega.” She snorts, chuckling huskily. “As if that’s even possible.”

“You’re telling me things I already know,” he chides, grabbing her hand and lifting it off his face. “I’m paying for information I won’t hear on the streets.”

Instead of feigning insult, Serenity smiles sweetly as she lays her other hand on his around her wrist. “Then you won’t hear how tactical he is, of how knows just how to hit targets with so few people. Mercs complain about his strategy. He’s able to adjust to the minute changes in their tactics.” She huffs a laugh and he releases her hand, letting her lay her arms on his cowl. “He’s got the balls, quads - whatever - to be a huge pain in the mercs’ asses, that’s for sure.”

Noticing her pointed look at his tool, Nihlus hums in irritation before raising the amount of credits. Last thing he wants is for her to give him false information because he didn’t front the right amount credits. It’ll waste more time than he has.

“How can I find him?” He asks, making it a point to hide his omni-tool to get her attention back on him. “I need to speak with him as soon as possible.”

“Why? Will you kill him?” At that, Serenity seems legitimately concerned and offended. Could it be that someone is willing to see to keeping the man foolish enough to try to fight and change the unchangeable?

“No,” he assures with a growl, looking around the club before returning to her eyes. “I need his help, and perhaps I will be helping him in turn.”

Her feigned smile falls as she searches his face as if to find any kind of falsehood in his words. After a moment, she nods and her smile returns, albeit seemingly more genuine and interested. “Word will get around soon enough. You won’t find him, he’ll find you.” 

She pauses when he sighs, a low thrum of annoyance under his breath. He didn’t quite expect anything different, but waiting has become more bothersome the more he learns about Nocturni, their habits, and Cydian in particular. She got away from him once because he waited too long to move on her, and he’ll be damned if he lets her escape once more. Only problem is that it only means there will be more Nocturni in the end to handle because she’ll be spending this time multiplying.

Cydian is not one to let alone when she could spread like a plague.

“Now,” Serenity purrs, leaning closer to nibble on the prongs of his mandible. “How about you and I go somewhere more private?” She waits a moment, most likely to gauge his reaction, before chuckling against him. “Off the books,” she adds.

Nihlus growls, figuring he can let himself find an outlet while he must wait for Archangel. He isn’t a turian without needs and desires.


	3. Cold, Dead Hands

“Jai …” Daniel peeks into the second room - if it could be called it - where Jai works on suturing a deep wound on a salarian’s arm. “Jai. When you’re done, can you come find me?”

Jai merely hums in acknowledgement, squinting her eyes as she slips the need through the pale yellow flesh before her, hearing her patient hiss and flinch. She knows full well the man doesn’t feel a thing, doped up on enough local anesthetic to numb this entire section of his forearm. Still, his perceived pain makes him move enough that she can’t get the suture tight off immediately.

This isn’t even the first time he’s made the work harder with his squirming.

“Mr. She’lika,” she says, sighing as she tries against to tie the end of the suture, “If you’re in pain, I can give you more anesthetic-”

“No,” he interrupts with a curt shake of his head. “I don’t want any more of that. I …. Oh …” He lays the back of his free hand to his forehead, smearing his blood on that hand across his crests. “Oh, I think I’m numb. I’m numb from those drugs …. Are you trying to kill me?!”

She ignores his panic as she leans an elbow into the crook of his arm so she can pull the last knot tight. “There!” Setting down her tools, she backs up with hands raised. “See? I’m not trying to do anything but close you up so you can go.”

Jai isn’t at all surprised when the man pulls his mouth into a tight line and stares intently at his arm. Blood still stains his skin and will need a good shower to get it completely off, but the clinic doesn’t have the amount of resources to let patients do more than clean wounds before she, Daniel, or Mordin could work. It’s all over the floor, scent metallic as it slicks the bottoms of her shoes, the toes of them covered in some spatter. It’s a matter of divine intervention that he made it all the way here from the docks without passing out and dying somewhere in a back alley.

On Omega, he could have fallen at the feet of people walking the streets and no one would care.

She’lika isn’t even unusual in his paranoia. Too many ‘clinics’ exist, feigning aid and putting people under anesthesia, only for the patients to wake up missing a few organs or - worse - carrying some extra cargo. She’s heard of too many horror stories about people being unwittingly turned into drug mules, threatened with death from the resulting infection setting in going untreated. Transporting drugs across faction lines for rival gangs doesn’t bode well either and people straight off the street have little clue how to avoid suspicion, let alone know what will come of them  _ once the drugs are taken out _ .

Jai doubts they’re allowed to just walk away.

Her patient’s frantic gaze lands on her again and he jumps up off a table that’s seen too much blood, serving as exam, surgery, and morgue table. He sways a moment, obviously from blood loss, and she steps forward to catch him.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” He scurries away from her and she closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s people like him that make her days difficult when all she’s trying to do is treat their wounds so they can live at least one more day. 

On Omega, that’s all someone can hope for.

As her heart begins to slow and surrounding sounds begin to steady, their echoing effect in her ears dimming to the usual noise of the station, Jai slowing forces herself to relax and ignore the screaming need to  _ run _ . It’s not often, but there can still be patients that bring images, sounds, and even smells and tastes back to her, the accusing shouts of ghosts punching holes in her already unsteady walls. She can’t keep Jimmu in the little space they have for patients, but he’s close, locked away in the supply closet - the only place safe enough for her to run to and silence the phantoms.

Exhaling slowly, she opens her eyes. Though her hands tremble, Jai side steps closer to the cabinets with the less valuable supplies. “I’m just going to get some medication for your wound.”

“N … No! Stay away!” He grabs the small tray of bloodied tools and hurls it at her, banging against the cabinets when she ducks out of the way. The loud crack of metal against metal echoes in her ears and she lifts her hands as he runs by, no longer able to control him, nor care. She’s done her duty and she can’t be expected to chase after a man that’s already moved to violence to avoid her.

He’s one of many to spit in her face and flee just as soon as the bleeding is stopped. Sometimes, they don’t even wait that long.

“Jai!” Daniel runs in, eyes wide in worry. 

She holds a shaking hand out to make him stop before he manages to slip in the pool of blood She’lika has left in his wake, his smeared footprints leading out into the hall and connecting waiting room. Lord only knows how many patients saw, and how many still stayed. It’s definitely not helping the stigma and belief all doctors are ‘butchers just waiting until they turn their backs.’

“Are you okay?” Daniel asks as he approaches much slower, watching his footing. “What happened?”

“Same thing that always happens?” She walks to the surgical tools thrown around this side of the room. “He panicked and tried to hit me with the tool tray.”

She doesn’t see his expression, but knows full well of his deep frown. He’s new to Omega, still walking around with a light in his eyes and hope to heal the deep wound in this station. She hasn’t asked his reasons for being here, nor does she really care given her own circumstances, but she does wonder just how long before the darkness of this station steals away his hope as it does for everyone. When will he see the core of the station for its disgusting and corrupt surface? What will he do when he  _ does _ finally see it?

“Here. Let me help.” He bends down beside her and plucks a set of forceps out of the sickly green. She accepts the help, drained and struggling to stay on her feet.

“I think I should take Jimmu out for a walk, get some fresh air.” She stands up and sets her handful of tools on the counter, leaning back against it. Lifting her head, eyes to the corrugated metal of the ceiling, she swallows against the dryness in her throat. Blood stains even this surface, long since dried into deep blacks and browns.

She hears the clink of more tools against the counter before Daniels lays a hand on her shoulder. It’s a bit of grounding that she needs right now, but it’s not Jimmu. “Do you think you two could deliver something for the clinic?”

She lifts a brow and finally looks down to him. “A delivery? To who?”

“Well … It’s our Archangel delivery.”

Jai stands straight and turns to him completely. “I thought Mordin handled that.” 

Despite his near constant activity of treating patients or trying to come up with new medical advancements for the clinic, Jai knows Mordin often makes time - which is a shock in and of itself - to deal with the vigilante responsible for so many changes in the mercenary presence around the district. Because of Archangel and his team, patients have a bit more confidence walking the streets to get to the clinic, and it makes it much easier for Mordin, Jai, and their mechs to keep any trouble away.

Daniel shakes his head and opens the cabinets in search of their large bucket they use to clean the rooms. One good thing about the clinic? It has drains, the floor sloped just enough that they can wash away the remnants of patients in between treatments. Last thing the clinic really needs of their paranoid, flighty patients is for them to see blood covering the floors, walls, or ceiling. The other room is slightly cleaner - the idea of a surgery suite in mind - but it isn’t safe from its own filth.

“Mordin had an important call that he had to take out of the clinic.” He offers a weak smile, sighing as his shoulders droop and he breaks any form of eye contact with her. Whatever - or whoever - has stolen Mordin from the clinic must be important, as not even she or Daniel are always successful in getting the lead doctor's attentions. “I just thought that … maybe … You’re already so accustomed to Omega …”

Jai bites down the thought of  _ coward _ before it can take root, seating itself deep in her mind. The clinic is safe,  _ clean _ when compared to the rest of the station. It makes sense for Daniel, still so fresh in this place to fear the grime of this place tainting him. It will eventually, but she considers that perhaps Mordin did much the same to her when he’d take ‘house calls,’ if they could even be considered  _ close  _ to it.

“Alright. I’ll go.” She uses the sink before he can set the bucket under the faucet to fill, letting the only clean water in the clinic wash away as much of the blood as she can. It doesn’t clean the slick sensation coating her skin, but that never truly goes away with water. “Just let me get changed and I’ll go.”

“Hey …” He says, stopping her with a brush of his fingers on her elbow, “Thanks.” Pausing, he looks about ready to say something, but he, instead, says, “The bag is in there with Jimmu. There’s the meeting spot on a datapad in the bag. Just … I think you have to be there soon.”

_ Could’ve told me sooner. _

She holds back her sigh, too tired to be frustrated at the rush. Walking to the storage closet, she opens the door and smiles at the one person who could never frustrate her. She closes the door behind her and crouches down, running her hands over Jimmu’s head, thumbs circling just at the base of his ears. His tail wags and that slimy feeling eases some, her skin feeling less slick with panic and terror from voices that come from invisible mouths.

“Oh no,” she says quickly as she jumps to her feet and steps away when he tries to get closer. “I’m really disgusting right now. Let me change and then maybe we can go for a walk? Would you like that?”

He yips and she chuckles softly, searching the crates on the shelves for the one holding changes of doctor scrubs. She doesn’t plan on meeting with Archangel - or someone he’s sent - in a bloodied set of scrubs. Her soiled clothes go into the crate set for incineration at the end of the week and thanks the fact that Mordin splurged with some coated in a strange, hard coating that helps to repel fluids. Or it repels a lot of it, anyways. 

It doesn’t keep the  _ smell _ at bay and it haunts her every night, tainting her food with the perceived taste of it.

She closes her eyes, balling her hands so tight that she feels her arms tremble. Her breath comes in pants as the thought washes over her, the connection between smell of blood and the images making itself painfully known. Mindor was coated in seas of blood, she was drowning in it. Torfan ran slick with rivers of it, slowly her movements as it pooled around her legs.

A loud bark snaps the trance, the images blinking out as soon as they arrived. Sighing, Jai forces her hands open and kneels. She opens her arms in silent plea and Jimmu trots closer, stepping onto her thighs and tucking his head over her shoulder. His soft fur brushes her sweaty cheek and his natural scent fills her lungs, cleansing her if for this moment. When she opens her eyes, she watches his curled tail wag and smiles. Too soon, she has to pull away from him. She frowns at his beautiful eyes and how they seem to look straight through her to all her wounds hidden beneath the surface, and knows how to cure them.

“I have to make a delivery.” Standing, she grabs the bag and slings it over her head and shoulder for a better grip. “Let’s see where we have to go,” she says as she scans through the quick message Mordin must have decrypted by the extra notes in his handwriting. She finds the location and groans, closing her eyes and rubbing her brows with her free hand. “Just great.”

Archangel, whoever he may be, wants to meet in a place Jimmu can’t go, the food markets. She’s tried to take him before, bundled in the satchel she hefts around, but nearly earned Jimmu a serious injury when a stall merchant accused them of affecting his sales. Surely, it had nothing to do with the rot in his stock, but it didn’t keep him from firing.

The doctors said she’d never be able to be near a weapon in her life after so much death she wrought with one in her hands, but they were wrong. She had never been more elated that they were as she was when she  _ didn’t  _ freeze at the gun pointed at her, costing her Jimmu. Instead, she managed to tuck him away and took the bullet in her arm, but the resulting infection and scar was nothing to the near destruction of her sanity had Jimmu been hit.

Growling in the back of her throat at Archangel, at the fact that, in his paranoia, she would be forced into discomfort. The cracks in her walls ran deep, her shields not meant to withstand so much as a breath without Jimmu there to help her hold up the crumbling barriers. Obviously, Archangel felt being in the open would be better for an exchange, and he might be right given that crowds make good cannon fodder, but Jai didn’t have to like the situation. She also knew that he’d throw her in the line of fire if it came to saving his own life.

She can’t say that she wouldn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry, big guy,” she whispers as she crouches to put his head, guiding him closer to give him a kiss between his perked ears. “I have to go this alone.” She stands, looking down at that knowing - almost questioning - face. “I’ll be okay. Promise. Maybe the fresh air will help.”

‘Fresh.’ If the word ever meant something on this station, it has long since died and decayed away into nothing. It belongs with words like hope, love, happiness, and safety. Safety being the biggest joke of them all.

The atmosphere of the market alway weighs heavy, like an actual blanket of thick, dank air fouled by an assault of the senses. 

Too many people crowd around each other, turning into a shoving mass of angry faces, and even the floor seems to undulate from the thrown aside trash or - as she’s so disgusted to find - scurrying vermin that don’t always find themselves lucky enough to dodge the stomping feet. Adults drag their children through the too crowded streets, the only thing keeping the young by their parent’s side a too tight grip that makes the kids protest with screams. They are either ignored or unheard over the bellows of vendors shouting out their wares, many of these voices either untranslated due to difficulties from the thickness to their accents or because they just aren’t speaking a catalogued language. 

The booths hold all manner of things from the alien to somewhat more recognizable, their smell slithering through the moving bodies like a serpent to mix with the strong musk of sweat and filthy bodies. The majority of the booths carry foods long since rotted beyond any healthy state, left out too long in the hot, humid air of the station, but the promised lower prices appeal to the average citizen too poor to afford the food not bound to make them sick. Too many times, Jai has seen patients that have come to the conclusion that being sick and treated by the clinics is cheaper than valuable food.

She hates to admit that they’re right, even if she never does so aloud.

Swallowing against the film on her tongue, she clenches her teeth against the rancid taste in her throat thanks to the air. This market is the very reason why she pays extra to the Blue Suns claiming her district for the food they supply. On most occasions, the quality is good enough to eat, if tasting a bit strange, and she doesn’t have to struggle through the crowds. Too many people screaming too many things and touching her in too many places presents a very real problem for her, for her sanity, and it’s worse given that it’s not safe to bring Jimmu with her. He’s her safety net, but she has to be his in this situation and leave him behind for fear of a vendor drawing a weapon in insult despite the very obvious presence of more likely suspects for any contamination.

She just hopes Archangel will be where he said.

She holds the bag of medical supplies tighter to her chest as she slips into an alley entrance between two vendors. They eye her with glares, one with a set of his four eyes and another with her bare two krogan ones. Jai bites down a shiver at their accusing gazes, but they don’t move to do anything, eyeing each other suspiciously. From the looks of their reactions, it seems like the space for this break in the line of booths for the alley is some kind of sore subject. If Jai knows Omega, there is a good feeling that it’s feud over claim to the sliver of space, one of the most valuable assets for people on this station living in the shadows of those with any semblance of power.

The alley is sparse, but not completely empty as people move in and out of the markets through this path. No one pays a mind to her as she tries to avoid their eyes and attention, nerves on end. She knows Archangel enough to know that it’s in her best to try and keep up with his secrecy. He does things for the station that no one else dares, for whatever insane reason, and because of that, she’d rather not draw any undue attention to him. Not when it takes a simple effort to remain unassuming.

She can do that, at least.

“Where’s Solus?” A voice calls behind her back and her hackles rise, not sure if she’s being approached by Archangel or one of the many on the hunt for him. Either could be dangerous considering the fact that she isn’t the man expected for this exchange.

Without turning around, she lifts her chin and tightens her grip on the bag. If this is where she gets into a fight, where it’ll all end, then she’ll lift her head and face it.

Hopefully Jimmu will forgive her if she ends up being killed for this change in routine.

“Mordin was unable to come. He was with a patient.”

“It must have been important,” the voice says and now Jai can hear the modulation of a helmet, drowning out any of her attempts to figure out the owner unless she turned off her translator. That presented with a whole new set of problems that she’d rather not think about.

“It was,” she says as she takes a side step to look over her shoulder, seeing a blue armored turian approach. For a moment, she panics at the color, blood turning cold at being caught by a Blue Suns apparently looking to trade with Archangel, Omega’s number one bounty. Surely, her dealing with him wouldn’t bode well for her life, let alone her chances at ever living beneath the Suns’ territorial claim ever again.

However, when he steps into a slightly brighter beam of lights shining in between the overhead catwalks between the buildings, she sees that his armor lacks the distinct white. Instead, his armor is blue and black, with a yellow insignia across his right shoulder guard. This has to be Archangel,  _ has to be _ .

“Archangel?” she asks, facing him completely. When he doesn’t, she looks him over again, sure she’s seen that symbol before, either painted on walls or a person. She damns her own memory when she can’t place it. “I’m from Mordin’s clinic. One of the doctors -”

“Shepard,” he says with a slight nod to his head and she relaxes her shoulders, trying to force her heart to slow despite the fact that she's apparently on Archangel's radar. Last thing she needs is to panic and fall into another episode with no way of getting herself out. “I assume he’s aware you came with the supplies to make the deal?”

Jai nods and shifts the pack’s strap off of her shoulder, offering it. “Feel free to check it over if you want.”

“I don’t need to,” he responds, tucking the tips of his fingers into a compartment on his thigh guard and slipping out a credit chit. “Untraceable, like we agreed.”

They exchange the supplies for the chit easily enough and Jai pockets the chit, but stills when she feels his presence still before her, his shadow still splayed around her feet. If something isn’t right, if she’s expected to do something else, and she can’t figure out how to fix it, then this meeting may not end as easily as hoped. Lifting her head, she frowns in confusion at the man shifting the bag between his hands before looking to her.

“It’s heavier.” His helmet tilts down and he’s quiet a moment before she hear a raspy sounds much like growl. She swallows thickly at the supposed upset and opens her mouth to speak when he says, “I didn’t agree to more supplies. I’m not paying for them.”

_Did Daniel pack it wrong? Mordin would never make a mistake._ _Crap …._

“Don’t worry about it,” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth despite knowing full well the extra supplies in question cost the clinic good credits. Credits that are in short supply.

“These are supplies your clinic needs.” His helmet emits a low buzz and judging by the jerk of hand movements when he goes to open the bag, it's a sound of irritation at unwelcome change.

Her response is quick, coming out of her mouth before she can even consider the reason of her words. “No, don't.” Offering a weak smile in hopes to convince him nothing is amiss, she shakes her head. “Take them. If Mordin gets upset, I can cover the costs with my own credits.”

Archangel doesn't even  _ try _ to hide the air of suspicion in his vocal. “Why? To what end?”

She hates that Omega has turned a person so willing to help people so paranoid, but she knows there is no way to change the station. What's worse is that Archangel must think he can.

She doesn't want to see a man so willing to help be killed by his own misguided ambitions.

“You help people, even if nobody notices,” she says, smile gaining a bit more assurance. “You give people hope.”

She hears a sputtered sound as his shoulders shrug. “‘Hope’ is an optimistic word for it.”

“Still …. Consider it a 'thank you’ from someone who's grateful.” She opens and closes her hands a few times, unsure what to say to him. 

She doesn't have to grasp for too long before his helmet makes a buzzing sound and he turns away. “Watch yourself, Shepard,” he says as he walks away, disappearing into the crowds.

As if in a sudden rush, the discord of the market crashes around her and she releases a shaky sigh of breath she hadn't known she was holding. She truly meant what she told Archangel, but she knows words mean nothing on this station. 

In the end, it won't save his life; and that's the biggest shame in the situation.

She can't dwell on it too long, though. Reality is harsh on Omega and doesn't favor the selfless. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she lowers her head and turns to the opposite end of the alley to head into the less hectic streets now that she doesn't have to traverse the markets. It's a longer way to the clinic, but it's quieter and there tends to be less people around to get into her space.

“The end is nigh!” Shouts a batarian evangelist to anyone that'll listen as he shoves his way through the crowds, being just one of many prophetising the end of life in one form or another. 

Little do they know that Omega  _ is  _ the end. If they do know, then they haven't accepted it.

Suddenly, hands wrap around her shoulders, spinning her towards the sight of a snarling batarian man inches from her face. He shakes her as he screams, “Listen to the words of truth! You can't turn away from the darkness!”

His words twist into a barrage of wails of the dying at her feet, cries for mercy from those she once called her family. She's drowning in a sea of red, each panicked gasp for air only sucking in more of the slick, metallic blood into her lungs. Hands grab at her, nails slicing through her flesh and breaking bones as the dead strangle her, seeking revenge because  _ she _ survived while they perished. 

All while wide eyes glazed over from death staring accusingly at her as mouths roar with a thunderous sound. She falls; falls into their embrace of decay as they wrap around her and now murmur in her ears.

This …. It's almost soothing in it's absolution.

“Shepard …” A voice purrs, calm and composed. “Shepard. You need to snap out of it ….”

The dead are demanding. Why can't they let Jai fall into a never ending sleep? She supposes this is only fair ….

The cold abyss doesn't claim her, however, and the voices weaken to mere whispers. Crimson no longer fills her vision and though she still feels drained, she doesn't feel the terrorizing sensation of fluid filling her lungs.

“... Shepard.” 

She doesn't know this voice. It's different from the dead.

“Shepard ...”

This voice is persistent.

“Shepard.”

The finality in the voice jerks her back, the truth of her life quickly wrapping around her like a vice. Omega is all she sees now, it is her life. The dead and lost roam the streets, but at least they stay mostly out of her head, leaving her to her known demons.

Whining, Jai clenches her eyes shut as she grips onto the metal surface against her. She must have fallen, but she can't determine which way is up thanks to her reeling mind. She feels like she's still on her feet and notices that hands lay on her shoulders only as they remove themselves. Whining, she cracks open her eyes for fear of seeing that her breakdown is lessening just because her horrors now stand before her, but she sees blue instead.

Her nightmares are never blue.

She swallows against her dry throat and follows the blue surface of hard edges up in search of its owner. She only has the credits Archangel gave for the clinic to give to whoever had chosen to take advantage of her traumatic episode. She has nothing else, though that isn't always the case for the truly inventive muggers.

Her eyes widen when her gaze meets the unguarded face of Archangel, his plates silver with swooping blue across his cheeks and mandibles. They look like blood, cobalt and caked on his face, tainting him with the touch of death. Only his eyes are a crisp blue even lighter than her own, but cold as steel as he stares down at her. So cold that she feels a shiver ripple down her spine at his silent scrutiny.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice so weak and throat raw as if she were screaming as her mind splintered. Swallowing against the discomfort, she steps back and looks around, the distinct lack of raised clamor around them adding to her hazy state.

The busiest streets surrounding the markets no longer wrap her in their tight embrace, the more subdued crowds giving breaks in flow for her to see the faces of the buildings around her. She begins to recognize the graffiti plastered over dirty walls and scars of destruction in the buildings from years of abuse without any attempt at repair. Most of all, she sees the face of the clinic further down the street and her expression pulls into a frown, mouth opening in confusion.

“The … clinic?” Turning back, she sees Archangel hasn’t looked away from her, his eyes flicking over her as she moves. “How … ?”

“I carried you,” is all he says, turning away and moving to replace his helmet.

“Wait!” She steps forward, hand held out, but stops, slowly pulling it back. He is an enigma, a secret shadow in Omega’s hopes and dreams, and who is she to try and demand he stay in her company after he helped her without any apparent gain? When he slows and looks to her, she drops her hand. “Thank you.”

He makes a low rumble, like gravel beneath one’s feet. “Don’t mention it, Shepard.”

“Jai,” she says, stopping him again before he can turn away. “My name is Jai.”

Archangel pauses for a moment, eyes finally lowering to the side before returning to her. He nods, but remains silent as he replaces his helmet and turns away. Watching him slip into the darkness like a ghost once more, Jai drops her head and sighs out a breath.

Omega’s chill returns once more as the only one able to pull her from the realm of horrors walks out of her life without her ever finding out how he did it.


	4. But When the Night is Deep

Aria may have turned away from his warnings from a top of her throne, but the dancers around Afterlife proved to have less loyalty to secrecy and Aria's self agenda and more interest in his credits. Most of what they spoke was approved by Aria to some extent, he's sure, else she wouldn't have sent him to them. There were those times, however, when he could flash an extra amount of credits to the point that the greed overcame their caution. All it took was an open chit and a few back alley meetings until he gained enough information to set up a small network of informants.

He knows he should feel something for baiting the desperate women with credits, but he knew everyone looked out for themselves here on this station. He felt no regret for fooling the dancers into breaking the strict rule of leaving the most valuable information for Aria's little games.

If he's to save this station, he must put the many above the pathetically greedy few.

One thing he has learned from information not seeped in suspicion speaks of a local clinic housing an often times  _too_  inquisitive salarian doctor. The clinic sat deep within the Gozu district, a small section of the station under the foot of the Blue Suns, and home to those too poor to get out. He knew the mercenary group and their greed, and of the extents to which they go to get their credits. Any hole into debt these people were in was only dug deeper with each appearance of the Suns on their doorstep.

Violence runs rampant in the streets; muggings, beatings, and sexual assault just as big a part of life here as anywhere else despite the supposed Blue Suns protection. Nihlus has neither the time or will to fight each instance of it he passes on his way, the effort to stop something so natural for Omega only out to delay his own hunt.

He knows nothing will change the direction of the tide that drowns Omega.

Following both the directions his informants had given and few signs still untouched by vandals, Nihlus finds what must be Solus' clinic. It's a battered structure, half fallen with walls stained by symbols and signs, each merely painted on the more faded layers beneath.

It seems even the walls within this station show signs of how Omega is built by everything clamoring over each other to be on top.

Nihlus enters the small clinic made from a few still-stable rooms within a falling building and looks around the small makeshift lobby, it's walls dark and stained. Armed mechs stand at his sides and door opposite, perhaps guarding the exit accesses. He's heard of this district being under the foot of the Blue Suns, but rumor also tells tales of this head doctor being more than a simple-minded salarian out to treat wounds that'll never heal the weeping sore of Omega.

A human male, dressed in a doctor's scrubs, stands up from his examination of a human woman's wrist and comes towards him. "Can I help you, sir?" His eyes flick over Nihlus and he frowns in confusion at the obvious lack of any visible injuries. The fact that he doesn't tense at the sight of armor and weapons speaks of the normalcy of violence in this place.

"I'm here to see Dr Solus," Nihlus says as he looks over the man's shoulder towards the three closed doors towards the far side wall of the clinic. "I'm here on Aria's orders."

Not exactly a truth, but he only needs a small hint of attention and curiosity to be able to make his purpose known.

"Oh." The man's eyes widen before he blinks, and Nihlus can practically smell the freshness about the doctor. The taint of this foul station hasn't yet seeped into his bones, it seems. "Sure. Let me see if he's done with his patient."

Nihlus nods and watches the man go, walking to and disappearing into the far right room. The bit of information about at least one exam room is catalogued in his mind. An obvious attempt at getting his attention by the shuffling of cloth and cleared throat at his side makes him turn reluctantly, not entirely sure he wants to bother with whatever someone  _not Mordin Solus_  has to say. He doesn't have time for small chatter, but at least he doesn't have the doctor waiting on him just yet.

When his eyes land on an asari nurse, he's sure, from the lack of the universal symbols doctors so often plaster all over their uniforms. He knows the purpose of them, knows that they help to announce their purpose to everyone in times of panic. More than that, the implementation came about during the Krogan Rebellions when the lives of field medics were deemed most important and worth keeping unharmed.

A war is lost when no one is around to keep wounds from festering, killing soldiers in masses.

"You're not from around here," she states more than asks, wringing her hands when he nods. "Please try to be careful. Omega isn't like other stations."

Nihlus watches her ungloved hands grip and worry themselves, the hems of her sleeves speckled with the dark browns and blacks of blood soaked into the fabric. Even from his place, she smells of a scent reminiscent of decay just beneath the antiseptic tang. It's a scent he's sure she no longer picks up on herself, desentized to it over time.

Still, he can't ignore her. Not when she looks at him with her forehead wrinkled in her frown.

"I'm not. I'm here looking for someone." No use telling her the truth, how unimportant she is to the overall situation.

Best to keep the insignificant blissfully ignorant. It's something Saren's taught him.

The nurse opens her mouth to speak when the scraping sound of metal on metal cuts her off. Looking over his shoulder, he sees an older salarian step from the exam room ahead of the human, his eyes flicking around the large room before landing on Nihlus. Nihlus can see the slight irritation at being interrupted at whatever task was at hand, but his face doesn't shift from the flat mask of someone far above a mere doctor fighting the ever rising tide of victims of violence on Omega.

"Heard wanted to speak," Dr Solus says as he approaches Nihlus. His large eyes narrow slightly as he looks Nihlus over. "Don't look like one of Aria's men. Equipment too good." Gaze reaching Nihlus' once more, he shakes his head and moves to turn away. "Need to see to patients. Have no time for trivial matters. Don't like being lied to."

"I was told you're the one who'd be interested in some weird deaths." Nihlus steps closer, following the man as he lowers his voice to just the two of them, and pulling his mandibles tight when the salarian pauses. "I'm here to ask information. Something is happening and there are going to be a lot of bodies on the streets."

Solus is quiet for a moment before Nihlus hears him take a long inhale. "Will give you five minutes of time. No more. Must see to patients." Pivoting on his feet, he looks to his human partner. "See to patients." He exhales enough to shift his shoulders up, then down. "Better to say out to tend to critical patient. Will be back." When he shifts to Nihlus, he motions the opposite door to where Nihlus entered. "Outside private. Less possibility of unneeded panic among current patients."

Nihlus nods and the two step out into the small alley that branches off, one direction leading into another and the other out to the larger street. It smells distinctly of the metallic of blood with faint traces of antiseptic, all with the disgusting scent of rotting compost overshadowing the clinic trash. A thick film covers the floor of the alley, making Nihlus automatically begin to account for his boot sliding through the layer of sludge, aware that too fast of a shift can through off his balance. He's much rather avoid having to touch or come closer to the scent of the unknown combination of discomposed trash and bodily wastes baked in the constantly humid, hot air of the station.

When Solus stops and gives Nihlus an expectant stare, he clicks his mandibles and crosses his arms. "There's someone here on the station. They're dangerous and I'm hunting them down, but it's not easy. I know them, and I know what they're going to do." Humming, Nihlus glances to the ground between them as he's flooded with visions of the horrors he's seen done at Cydian's hands. "I heard that you occasionally have bodies come in. Specifically ones that have been murdered in very suspicious ways -" He looks up to Solus. "Ones that I have a feeling  _someone_ on this station could try to solve."

If Archangel is who everyone claims him to be, then there's little doubt Cydian's unique way of hunting will attract the vigilante's attention. Nihlus is hard pressed to imagine a reason someone  _wouldn't_  be curious about the carnage she leaves behind.

Solus remains silent still, nodding once. Nihlus feels his plates itch with the assurance that he will not just be able to convince the man of what now prowls Omega. The truth is that he'd rather not have someone immediately believe in the supposed myths of a turian creature that hunts the living, even if he abhors those who outright refuse to see truth even as it stares them right in the face.

It's those people that remain blind up until the point when truth rips their throats out.

"I need you to contact me if you hear anything about bodies showing up drained of blood and missing their hearts. I expect the latter to be forcibly removed."

Solus hums. "Need to know aim in information. Want to know what will come of it." He shakes his head once. "Even if not my patient, value privacy."

"There's something out there you wouldn't believe even exists, so just consider them a murderer. A very sick, demented murderer." Nihlus sighs and drops his arms. "Her name is Cydian Nemodius. I've been following her for years and she keeps slipping out of my grasp. I've seen too many dead at her hands. I  _have_ to find her here, but I need help. Even if it's rumor, I need to know where bodies are being found. You don't have to tell me who they are, just that they match what I'll tell you."

"Death common on Omega." Solus sniffs, a seemingly disappointed tone to his voice. "Not always able to examine deceased, most times go unattended. Not always brought to attention." He shifts and cups his chin in a hand. "Do hear mentions of deaths not usual for locations. Patients talk, staff talk. Even Blue Suns talk."

"That's all I need. I doubt it's common for bodies to be ripped open like I'm saying and just left out on the streets with all their belongings." Nihlus hums when Mordin quirks a brow. "I know that vorcha like to eat their kills …. Maybe even krogan too."

As much as the galaxy likes to deny the existence of the same kind of discord that lives on Omega ever spreading out like a plague, Nihlus has seen plenty of examples of modern trends of cannibalism. Even the deep reaches of the Citadel can house the sick despite C-Sec's futile efforts to create the utopian oasis of the station so many have been fooled into believing the center of galactic order is, the seedy underbelly masked by falsehood and unseen by blind eyes.

In a way, Cydian is no different. The only thing making her and her kind dangerous the way in which she can spread, infecting his entire people with a unnatural hunger. With the way in which she can take damage and heal the same as any krogan, she presents a much more difficult target than a simply lunatic with the taste for flesh.

"Assume have a means to determine the difference," Solus insinuates and Nihlus nods. "Possibility district not intended target of one you're pursuing."

"I know," Nihlus agrees, growling as he runs a hand over his crest. "But I'm taking a guess in her choosing the district majorly made of living complexes. She needs to hunt … but she also needs to expand her numbers. It's not common, but some reject what she's going to do to them …. They're bound to be found with traces of some kind of viral infection that's destroyed anything having to deal with their blood …. Hemorrhaging, heart … well, exploding-"

"Unlikely caused by viral infection-"

"Humor me," Nihlus says, interrupting Solus' logical rejection of the very real possibility.

If Nihlus once thought missing hearts and lack of blood was disturbing, finding a turian whose body had rejected the change was much worse. He still has nightmares from the first poor bastard he had found, still alive and beyond any help besides a bullet between the eyes.

_A female lies in a pool of her own blood, halfway through the change and plastered along the walls in natural blues and an unbelievable black. It gurgled in her throat, overflowing from even her eyes, and her talons gripped uselessly at the tears in her plates and hide where muscle shone in the low lights. Looking down at her, Nihlus could see her heart and lungs just beneath her sternum as they struggled to pump a blood that was never meant to flow through her body, mutated and swollen in a process of change that would never complete._

_There was a difference in the body rejecting an unnatural change and one ripped apart from a destructive transformation._

A long breath comes from the salarian and Nihlus looks into the man's eyes. "Can remain vigilant, listen to possible speech of odd circumstances. Cannot guarantee anything." Solus drums his fingers on his chin, looking aside before nodding curtly and returning his attention to Nihlus. "Anything of importance, will contact."

Nodding in response, Nihlus opens his omni-tool to send over his extranet address decrypted for any correspondence concerning Nocturni. Usually, it's used by Saren and himself, but there is the rare occasion where the assistance of secret informants is needed. It's hidden from everyone but those given permission and completely separate from both his public and Spectre addresses.

He pauses, however, when he thinks of the worse case scenario. "And contact me when you receive any turians injured under strange circumstances, or who talk of being attacked by very strange, scary looking turians." Humming, he sends over his contact information to the doctor and waits until he sees the man's own tool glimmer with the notification before closing his own tool. "Actually, contact me if  _anyone_ comes in talking about strange turians."

"'Strange?' Many definitions for 'strange.' Need clarification." Solus accesses his omni-tool and accepts the contact link, granting Nihlus access to comming the doctor in turn.

"Monstrous." Nihlus exhales heavily and growls when he nods. "Trust me, that'll be exactly what they say, or something like it."

* * *

There are rumors someone is looking for Archangel, someone seemingly untouched by the taint that Omega is seeped in. A turian that dares to stand out in the crowd, wearing expensive weapons holstered to equally valuable armor. Anyone unable to defend the right to equip themselves as he does would be dead the moment they stepped foot onto the docks.

The fact that this man walks so confidently attracts Garrus' attention even without word of this unknown turian's search.

Garrus has done his own research into the crimson turian, and what he found only brought more questions. Curiosity eats at him, demanding he find out why a  _Spectre_  would be on Omega and asking for him. Certainly the whole reason he been stuck on Omega with nowhere else to go wouldn't need a Spectre to intervene. The Council never sullied itself with C-Sec matters unless it was their own interests in question.

The mere fact that Garrus is running from prosecution for something that he had to do for the sake of a justice where protocol would fail due to a technicality hold no importance to the Council where they sit upon their pulpit.

Still, he will approach this Spectre, Nihlus Kryik, with the same amount of caution as any other seeking Archangel. A surrogate from his team will get the Spectre's purpose while Garrus overhears and directs his man in the conversation. If he finds Kryik has more than passing curiosity in Archangel, Garrus will take the next step into actually meeting with the Spectre himself. As it is now, he doesn't trust the man.

Even Spectres can wear the cloth of corruption, often the largest beasts with secrets and darkness hidden in their shadows. Where it could benefit a mission, the loose handle on morals could become dangerous for Garrus.

Butler will be his surrogate tonight, one of his more reliable members of the team for these situations. His men may be capable in fights, but they aren't all able to keep their composure. They are untested, still too transparent to even attempt playing the part of Archangel with even the more gullible of Omega's usually intelligently impaired element.

They're bound to get themselves killed.

"Boss, I'm in position," Butler's voice calls over the open comm and Garrus glances from his perch above to where the man has seated himself in a corner booth of Afterlife's lower bar. "I just sent word to find him."

Garrus hums in acknowledgement. He already watched the passing of whispers on dancers' lips flow through the club like a serpent slithering through the crowds of unaware bodies drowning themselves in liquor and the throes of mindless movement. When the rumors of Archangel seeking a word with the Spectre reached the ear of a young dancer, she disappeared for the moment it'd take her to slip the word to one of the urchins Archangel often employs for the pass of nonvital information. When she returned to the club and proceeded to find a drunken patron to grind on in search of sex fueled credits without a word to any other dancer, Garrus knew the Spectre would be here soon.

Watching from the lifted platforms of the more solitary dancers' platforms, Garrus waves over a woman and flashes a credit chit for her to climb into his lap. She's experienced by her wordless compliance, pocketting the chit as she climbs up and begins gyrating and grinding against his armor to the low, dark notes of the music. He pays her no mind, interested in his comm and perch over the large expanse of Afterlife. The sparse light will hide the direction of his eyes from any observers well.

It isn't long before he sees the dark form of the Spectre enter the club and make his way towards Butler's position. Garrus leans back into the seat, lifting his arms up to lay on the back edge as he readies himself to listen in on the conversation. He knows Kryik won't just lay everything out plainly. Not if it's obviously something Aria doesn't see fit for her attention.

That's alright, though. Garrus is used to cleaning up the messes her lack of true control leaves.

"I heard you've been looking for Archangel," Butler begins, the large man clasping his hands together on the top of the booth. "It's not just something anyone tells you, but chalk this all up to my curiosity."

"Archangel, I presume." Kryik sits back in his seat when Butler nods and Garrus smirks at the obvious suspicion in the Spectre.

Good. He isn't stupid from complacency in possessing full knowledge on the Council's orders.

"Were you expected someone else?"

"To be plain, no. I wasn't expecting anything." Kryik drums his talons on the table. "I know you aren't Archangel, but a face to speak his words. But I know he's around, listening to this conversation."

"Oh? You seem to know quite a bit about me." Butler spreads his hands across the table, palms up. "If you know so much, then I'm curious why you didn't come find me yourself."

Kryik's short thrum of annoyance at the flippant dismissal reaches Garrus' ears and he, talks slowly, low to not be heard by the woman in his lap. "Cut the chatter. Get his purpose and move on," he reminds his man, not knowing why some of his people forget that Archangel must always be on the move lest someone overhear the name and come hunting.

Clearing his throat, Butler lifts a hand to Kryik. "Alright, let's cut to the point. You can imagine that my time is very important. As much as I'd like to debate  _who_ I am, I'd much rather know why you're digging for me."

"Because I hear you're the only one that gives a damn what happens on this station."

_So he's already learned the deep, regrettable truth of this station in his short stint searching for me._

Of course Nihlus doesn't know Garrus' thinking as he continues. "There's something bad here, something that's more important than any mercenary or slaver. Something more important than us as individuals. We need to work together."

"You're going to have to give me more than that-"

"Or perhaps you're too involved with your self important Spectre status," Garrus says over whatever it is Butler tells the Spectre. If this conversation is all for some mission the Spectre is on, then it's all a waste of Garrus' time, and attracting too much attention for his liking. "Tell him that he's bringing too much heat on me. I'm not interested."

When Butler relays the information, Garrus hears Kryik growl. "Listen to me. You tell Archangel that he better open his eyes to what's in the dark around here, to something that's hunting everyone.  _Him included_. His secrecy may be nice for the mercs, but it won't help against what's coming. If anything, all this talk of him is going to put a target on his back."

Butler chuckles, waving a hand in dismissal. "I don't know if you've noticed, but  _everyone_  is gunning for Archangel. I can handle myself."

"Keep telling yourself that when you're in the mouth of something from nightmares." Kryik slams his hands on the table, leaning closer to Butler and Garrus watches his man reach for his weapon, hand hovering over his pistol. "Go ahead. Pull your weapon. Let's see who's faster, see who  _notices_  you." He rumbles and sits back when Butler has no choice but to relax, even if his hand lays closer to his weapon than before. "There's something not quite turian on this station and she's out hunting people as we speak. You may not know the term, but she's a Nocturni-"

Garrus bites back his laugh, never expecting the man to be delirious. If this is one of the Council's finest, then the galaxy is just as doomed as Garrus has suspected all along.

"-Don't believe me. I don't care, but you'll soon be faced with the bodies. If we don't stop her before she gets too many  _children_ , then this entire station will be drowning in blood." The Spectre stands, mandibles pulled tightly to his jaw. "You'll start to pay attention when it's you and your men being hunted down, mark my words. And when you finally see the truth is darker than your ignorance," he says, opening his omni-tool, "You contact me. I might just put this conversation aside and help you save this disgusting place."


	5. You've Seen the Butcher

****

Garrus doesn't leave favors unpaid for long, doesn't like to accumulate debts.

Jai Shepard is one such debt, whether she knows it or not.

He doesn't know the reason behind the extra medical supplies in the usual trade off of with the clinic run by a salarian clearly skilled in more than medicine. Garrus trusts the man for the straightforwardness the doctor employs - credits for supplies with no compensation for silence needed - and he has a feeling that a 'mistake' such as extra supplies in a trade will not go unnoticed. Nor will it be forgotten and considered a charity.

Omega just doesn't work that way.

Garrus can't turn away and ignore the fact that Jai made it obvious she intended to cover for the incident, but the fact that this 'cover' would involve credits from her own pocket was something she left unsaid, even if Garrus knew it. No clinic, especially Solus', could survive if supplies were handed over to the local vigilante without knowledge of what they were being used for, or what injuries were so necessary to keep from the clinic doctors. Solus would seek compensation for the medical supplies that could have been used for his own patients, his services tending to be free for anyone that stepped into his clinic, and Garrus knew people like Jai, knew she'd never mention the fact that  _her_ credits were included in that chit from him she handed over.

He couldn't walk around Omega knowing that someone else is paying for the supplies he and his men were using when it was clear she didn't have the credits to spend so frivolously. He would  _not_ be the reason someone went without a meal or place to stay and he highly doubted she'd be dirtying her hands with the filth of the Gozu district if she were of the few elite standing atop the writhing heap of corruption that was Omega.

Walking through the back alleys of the district, Garrus struggles over the concept of her selflessness. Even Archangel has a motive, to have at least  _some_ control of this prison of his while giving an outlet to his anger. Jai, however, seems to have no ulterior motive to help him and it's a concept unheard of on Omega. It draws him to her even if he reminds himself to remain hyper aware of her, always waiting for her to show her true ways.

"Shh, my child." A feminine voice says just as he passes an alley to his left, calm in tone and much too calming for the darkness from which it reaches out to him. "It'll hurt but for a minute …."

Growling at that, Garrus shifts towards the soft flanging purr and draws his pistol. He steps into the alley, walking lightly thanks to wearing his lighter armor. He doesn't often switch between it and his normal heavy armor, but he suffered a large dent in his cowl plating from the past job and he left it at the base to repair once his debt was paid. In this instance, however, it turns out that the weaker protection is proving itself in softening his step, making his approach quiet as he nears two forms pressed against the rusted wall of the alley.

One of the shapes is  _massive_ , he realizes, and taller than even his own slightly above average height. He stands right around seven foot, three, but this …  _turian_  is at least a foot taller, and much broader.

The only word that comes to mind seeing the shape of them still half shrouded in shadow is  _primal_. He may not remember what primitive turians once looked like from his past lessons, but there could be no other explanation than one seemed to have survived the passage of time. There just isn't any other reason something like this should exist, even here on Omega.

Their chest's easily twice the width of his own, their cowl rising up from around their shoulders in a large curve more like a hood than anything natural. Jagged plates jut from their shoulders and it only adds to the mountainous, plates of the same form lining their hips. Their clothes, clearly customized to make room for this unnatural form, seem designed to clearly show these mutant features as if the wearer is proud, and it isn't until Garrus looks closely that he realizes something.

 _He's looking at a_ _ **female**_.

Clenching his jaw, Garrus walks further into the alley, sighting down his pistol. He's doing the galaxy more than a favor in putting this monstrosity out of its misery. Judging by the bloody state of the whimpering turian woman - a  _normal_  woman - in this creature's hand, he's doing her a favor as well.

He doesn't speak, doesn't demand the victim be released, and simply fires when he sees the beast raise her hand to stroke the back of her hand across her injured captive's cheek. The weapon kicks in his hand and the sound echoes through the alley, but the beast doesn't immediately fall.

_There's no way I missed - There's no way to survive a shot to the temple - I must have missed …. There's no way …._

He snarls and starts to move in, mandibles flared in anger over his clearly mistaken aim. The monstrosity of a turian drops the woman and turns to him, her amber eyes glowing like flickers of flame. She  _smiles_  at him and he fires again, knowing his aim is true, that he puts a bullet between her eyes.

The thing jerks, growling, but  _doesn't fall_. It's impossible. Nothing but a krogan can take a shot -  _two_  - to the skull and come out alive. For all the plates turians have, they still can't stop bullets.

As if in defiance of logic, the beast raises her head flicking her mandible in a sign of annoyance as dark blood trickles between her brow plates and down her nose. Garrus bares his teeth and pulls the trigger again, damning whatever this monster is capable of, but it's fast.

Too fast.

Before he can register that his shot has been dodged, he feels the sudden stab of burning pain as a bullet pierces through his armor and hits just to the right of the center of his abdomen. Abandoning the idea of reloading his pistol, Garrus dodges a second bullet as he takes cover behind a disposal incinerator. He quickly holsters his pistol and grabs for his assault rifle, too close to use his Mantis.

"Come out, little bird," he hears her say, her voice void of any hostility as if she were merely tending to a child playing a game of hiding in the shadows. The fact that he obviously has such little importance to her stings worse than the medigel he floods through his suit and into his wound. "You don't have to hide from me."

He doesn't hear the sound of movement and takes the moment to peek just enough out of cover for his visor to scan the area. Looking around the corner of the incinerator, his heart jumps to a rapid pace as he finds she has, in fact, moved  _dangerously close_. He can't question the disturbing idea that she seemed to have run without making a single sound, not with her so dangerously close already.

Shifting his weapon to one hand, he reaches into his munitions belt and grabs one of the few grenades he managed to store on this severely lacking equipment storage on this damn suit. It's the last time he'll ever wear anything but his normal grade of heavy armor, but he knows he can use the ease of movement now that he can't change the cold reality.

Garrus snaps the lock to the grenade and quickly tosses it around his corner, counting the few seconds on its fuse before bolting out of his cover. The grenade explodes just as he leaves the safety of the incinerator and he doesn't look back as he runs out of the alley and towards the next cover within a small alcove, not willing to chance if the grenade will actually take her down or merely slow her down. As the smoke clears, Garrus sets his weapon's systems to armor piercing just in case and glances back.

Practically strolling out of the particles of debris within the air and acrid smoke, the freakish turian waves it away, clearing out the air in her face. He can hear her hum and can swear she looks right at him in his cover when she speaks once more. "I don't want to do this, little bird." She raises her pistol and fires, hitting the wall just before his cover and he ducks back into safety. "Please. I beg you, come out."

"Like hell," he says softly, crouching and lifting his weapon to round the corner and blind fire, imaging it'll be pretty damn hard to miss such a large target. He doesn't hear anything from her, and still doesn't even when he has to stop to reload heat sinks.

The silence is unnerving and sends a crawling itch up his spine.

He rumbles angrily under his breath, glancing down at his waist to check the bleeding. The medigel seems to have done its job, but he'd much rather get out of this situation sooner rather than later to get the wound properly cleaned. He's been on Omega long enough to learn of the prevailing tactic of contaminating munitions where possible, giving way to infections more deadly than the weapons fire itself. Being one to do it himself, he doesn't try to fool himself into thinking this monster has any mind not to do the same.

He has two ways to get out, kill this beast or retreat. One seems more possible than the other even if it goes against everything he's strived himself to distract her while he runs.

Throwing another round of blind firing out of his cover to keep her from moving closer, Garrus looks around for a way out, using his visor to scan the area and try to determine his location based off of the many maps it now has installed. Confident with its readings, he learns of a ladder up and into a tunnel within reach just a ways deeper into his current alley. These tunnels are much too large for something like her to get into easily, so even if she decided to follow, he'd have time to get out.

Weapon empty once more, Garrus reloads his assault rifle and straps it back into place over his shoulder. If he's to run for it under the cover of another grenade, he needs to be have his hands free to climb the ladder into the access tunnels as fast as possible.

He grabs a grenade from his munitions satchel and stands up, taking a calming breath to prepare himself for the count. Activating the fuse, he spins on his heel and jerks his hand back to throw.

That's when the grip of a vice wraps around his wrist. His eyes widen at the complete lack of wound on her face and claws at her hand, but she merely grins and lifts him up by his wrist, kneeing him in the wounded stomach before jerking the grenade from his hand. Tossing it over her shoulder, she glances over her shoulder as it skitters into the darkness and purrs when it explodes close enough to make Garrus' ears ring.

Groaning, Garrus unconsciously presses his hand to his stomach as he feels the medigel pull from his wound, letting blood flow anew. He manages to block a punch into his wound, however, with his forearm. The blow sends pain up his arm, but he keeps it from landing just as a fresh batch of medigel flows through his suit automatically.

She rumbles and relaxes her hand, lifting it to grip his chin roughly, long talons ghosting over his plates. "You're such a beautiful one." Smiling in a way that shows two abnormally long front teeth like fangs, she strokes her thumb across his mouth and he tries to bite it. "Willing to bite, are we?" She pulls him closer, just as he reaches for the last grenade in his pack. If he has to, he'll take them both down. "You don't know how much that excites me, little bird."

"Stop calling me that," he grinds out, jaw already beginning to ache from her grip. Flicking the grenade's fuse, he sees her gaze drop to the sound and uses the moment to kick her with both feet hard enough that she drops him.

She growls and reaches for him again when he falls, but he's luckily quick despite his wound and rolls. Dropping the grenade as he does so, he shoves himself to his feet and sprints for it, rushing towards the turn in the alley and for the tunnel access. He stumbles as the grenade goes off, feeling the heat at the back of his neck ,but he doesn't turn back. His stomach screams in pain and he feels the slick wetness of his blood dripping down against his hide, but he ignores it as he yanks himself up the ladder despite the soreness in his arms from her grip.

Almost to the top rung, Garrus shoves open the hatch just as the searing heat of a bullet slices through his thigh and his ears ring with the sound of a gunshot. He shouts in pain as he loses his footing and falls, heating the ground hard enough to steal his breath from his lungs when his chest collides with the stained and grimy concrete. He groans, but reaches for his knife first before attempting to push himself up and out of the disgusting film pooled in the alley.

When her large hand wraps around his shoulder and jerks him onto his back, Garrus slashes his blade blindly, catching her shoulder as she crouches beside him. His brushes off the blow, snatching his hand and, in one fluid movement, stealing the knife from his hand and stabbing it into his shoulder.

He yells out, but it soon becomes a loud cry in agony as she kneels onto his stomach, knee pressing into his wound. His hand claws at her, but her weight merely settles heavily on him and he feels his vocals whining and whimpering in pain. He's sure his one wrist is broken, perhaps a few ribs from the fall, and he can already feel the blood pooling around his body.

He shouts curses at her, snarling and jerking despite the pain when she smiles and reaches down to caress his face. " _Don't touch me_ ," he hisses at her, trying to pull his hand from her grip despite the pain shooting from his broken bones and knife still embedded in his shoulder.

She tsks him as she continues to run her hand over him. "I can take the pain away, little-"

"What do you  _want_ from me?" he interrupts, unable to take anymore of this twisted game of hers. He'd rather she hurry up and end it than play with him like some child, calling him  _little bird_  one more time.

Rumbling, she wraps her hand around his throat, but merely gives a light squeeze as she says, "I want to give you a gift. You're special. I can tell from the moment I saw you." The beast chuckles when he merely growls at her, stroking her thumb against his pulse as she smiles to reveal those protruding fangs once more. "Don't think of me in this moment, but in what I'm giving you."

At that, she drags the long talons on her fingers along the side of his neck. He jerks beneath her at the added pain and releases a long breath. At least now he can finally die, even if it's a pathetic death of bleeding out beneath some monstrosity of turian kind.

His eyes snap open when she releases his broken hand to yank open his mouth, slipping her other hand between his jaws. Struggling, he snarls and sinks his teeth into her flesh, but immediately gags at the disgusting taste of her blood. As soon as she pulls it back, he spits the rancid blood out in between his coughs, sure that he'll never forget the taste even in death. How something could still live with such decay in the blood is more disturbing than the sight of her.

He hears that horrible purring come from her again and glares at her, using his free hand to fight back her bloody one as she reaches for him. "Get away from me!  _Spirits_ damn you!"

She chuckles and easily grabs his hand, his struggle waning with every drop of his blood as it drains from his body. "Shh … It won't hurt much. I promise." Laying her hand on the wound at his throat, she smiles tenderly at his hiss. "Be one of mine. Join me and take my gift of a life better than any you could ever imagine."

Fire flows into him, making him howl as it feels like white hot electricity radiates from her touch. His feet kick as he writhes beneath her, hand clawing at hers to get it away, to remove it. No matter of injury ever filled him with such an agony.

He thanks the  _Spirits_ when it seems death finally comes and his reality goes black.

* * *

"I keep telling you, miss," Jai says as she works at rewrapping one stubborn elderly human woman's broken arm, "You can't try to remove the cast while it's still healing."

"It itches. I hate the feeling …." The woman whose name Jai can't quite remember huffs and squirms, thankfully late in the wrapping process so that she doesn't affect how it needs to be put on for optimal support. Jai  _really_ doesn't want to have to redo it. "I try to stick stuff in there, but it never makes the feeling go away …." She hisses and smacks Jai's head with the flat of her hand. "That hurts! What kind of doctor are you?!"

Jai swallows down her frustrations at the fact that it  _hurts_  because her patient 'sticks stuff in there,' causing bruising and scratches. She can only imagine what the hell the woman keeps shoving into her case, and the resulting wounds can only be tended as best as she can with some dissolving medigel that won't need doctor removal. As for the bruising, she can't really do much about the slight pain that comes from wrapping the cast - or the pain  _of a broken arm that still hasn't healed because it won't be left alone_.

"Where's Doctor Solus? I want him to do it," The woman demands, moving around enough that Jai has to take her patient's arm in her hand to smooth down the last of the rigid wrap.

"And … done," she says, ignoring the woman's indignation huff. "Now, can you  _please_  not stick things beneath your cast?" She holds up a hand when the patient opens her mouth. "Ma'am, I know it itches really bad, but the less you mess with it, the faster it'll heal."

Forcing herself to smile, she stands and offers the woman a hand up out of her chair. She had to tend to her patient in the slightly larger room they use as a waiting room due to Daniel and Mordin both having the actual 'exam rooms' occupied with matters much more likely to incite panic in the others.

It has been a long standing agreement between all three doctors that anyone with an injury seeming more gruesome than what can be hidden from view with their own bodies as a visual barrier from the other patients should be taken to one of the two rooms and quickly tended to. Most injuries, however, tended to fit into a category of treatment that shouldn't cause an uproar of patients screaming of doctors butchering others instead of the truth. It's all an unfortunate reality of her profession here, but she's long since gotten used to the way people on Omega always expect the worst, inciting a panic when they're spooked like a flock of injured sheep.

Her patient scoffs at Jai's offer of aid and makes a show of getting to her feet on her own  _despite_ the obvious effort it takes to make her old body cooperate. Jai closes her eyes, clenching her jaw at the irritation. It never fails that she comes face to face with the ungrateful majority that walk through the doors of this clinic.

Sometimes she wishes she could walk away, throw out any guilt she feels at leaving others to fend for themselves.

Ivelina, their asari nurse, gives Jai a sympathetic frown, but she waves it off. She doesn't need it from the overly nosy nurse, even if she knows Ivelina means well. Jai often considers what may have brought the young maiden to Omega's cestpools, but she knows from her haunting past that it's just not her place. Revealing something so important often comes with the expectation of a return in admittance, but Jai can't force herself to tell a soul on this station. No amount of working together will bring the truth out of her, especially not to someone so unconsciously intrusive with her attempts at understanding looks and beginnings of conversations in passing.

"Who's next, Ivelina?" Jai asks as she collects up her patient's previous cast, a foul smell of sweat more pungent from the fog of debris coming out of the mines, ash from the constantly burning pyres, and overall decay.

"Mr Suxes," Ivelina says, leaning forward in her desk and motioning a young turian with white stripes of colony paints across his eyes and forehead. "He is complaining of locked gizzard."

Jai nods, thinking that at least someone has come in with something that has a reasonably easy remedy. 'Locked gizzard' is a slang term for a blockage at the base of the esophagus just before it reaches a turian's stomach often used by doctors and patients alike. It was painful and kept the patient from being able to get any food down, but seeing as Mr Suxes wasn't writhing in pain or vomiting all over the lobby floor, it's a minor case. They were all lucky it is because such a scene would be sure to scare other patients into a frenzy of poison or contagion fears.

After the entire day that led to her breakdown in front of Archangel the other day, Jai isn't ready to be left in charge of managing such a situation.

"Ivelina, do me a favor and get me some-"

Suddenly, a high pitched scream floods the clinic and Jai snaps her head up to quickly find the source, panic rising at the possibility of her fears coming to fruition.

An asari woman stands, eyes wide and locked onto the main entrance of the clinic, hands over her mouth. More people begin to latch onto her fright and murmurs, whimpers, and soft cries echo through the room as the level of control in the room drastically falls with no leveling out in sight. Jerking her head to the entrance, Jai's lock onto a sight she hoped she'd never see even if such thoughts were nothing but childish dreams.

Archangel staggers through the doors, bloodied head to toes despite the light armor he's wearing. Jai rushes over to him as his body sways, head dropping as blood splashes onto the already stained flooring. She manages to shoulder half of his weight and feels his blood soaking into her coat despite the preventative additive to the fabric against it.

It's all the sign she needs to know that his life is hanging on her shoulders and she  _can't_ lose Archangel. Not when he managed to, out of everyone on the station, he managed to help  _her when only Jimmu ever could._

"Hold on," she whispers, voice shaky as she shifts him more onto her and starts dragging him towards Mordin's exam room, ignoring the rising voices screaming about the new state of the clinic. "Ivelina! Get me synthetic transfusions!"

Last she knew of Mordin, he was looking into a recent deceased body that was brought in by a family. She doesn't know much about the condition - Daniel being the one to assist in bringing in the body - but did manage to catch that Mordin was to perform an autopsy because the person died of very strange causes. She knows there's more than one exam table in the much larger room, and that it's decidedly worth it - and approved - to intrude on any privacy he's trying to give the autopsy to save a life.

A very important life, both to Omega  _and_ herself.

As the doors slide open, Jai immediately begins to trudge towards the nearest, clean table. "Mordin!" She shouts as he glances her way, a curious expression on his face that immediately hardens into one she's come to know as his stubborn determination.

Immediately, Mordin drops his tools from his work and rushes to the sinks to remove his gloves and wash his hands. "Need surgical kit," he simply says as he pulls on gloves with a loud snap of the latex and immediately starts to help Jai as she frantically strips Archangel. "Go. Will prepare patient."

Jai nods, moving away to get the needed supplies - thankful that Mordin thinks far ahead in case of emergencies such as this and packs supplies in anticipation for certain procedures - but large hand grips her wrist as Archangel stops her. Mouth opening in silent shock that he could  _still be conscious_ , Jai looks down with wide eyes as he coughs and whines at her.

"Jai … Burns ….  _Spirits,_  it burns so bad …."

She swallows against the burning stab in her chest and covers his hand with her own, gently prying it off of her. Unable to speak, to lie to him when there's every possibility he won't make it, she nods once and runs out of the room. She  _has_ to get the supplies they'll need to even try to save his life. Even if they fail, it won't be because they didn't try their damndest.


	6. I Put A Spell On You

It takes nearly an entire Omega day and night cycle before Jai and Mordin manage to close all of Archangel’s open wounds and brace his broken bones. She doesn’t know exactly how he found the strength to make his way to the clinic from wherever his attack had happened, but the fact that he did it instead of waiting for aid to come to him definitely saved his life. Even if he somehow hadn’t have bled out before scavengers found him, then they certainly would have finished the job. She doesn’t want to think about the very likely possibility that they’d have done  _ more  _ than simply kill and loot his body. 

Not even Omega’s hero vigilante wasn’t safe from the hungry mouths looking to make anything -  _ anyone _ \- something to eat.

Jai closes her eyes and breathes through her nose a few times to take in the antiseptic sting and ground herself before falling into that line of thinking, and opening them again once she’s calmer to take in the results of her and Mordin’s long hours of work. She can fight the enclosing panic from the thought of what happens everyday outside the clinic doors if she thinks about the life she’s helped save. If Archangel had the sheer will to make it here with the last vestiges of power he possessed, then she can swallow down the fears of ‘what if’ that hound her needlessly.

Looking at him, she frowns at the bandages covering so much of his body. He came in with lighter grade armor and she hates to imagine what would have happened had he  _ not  _ been wearing any sort of protection. Broken bones could have been shattered beyond repair without extensive surgery had that been the case, not considering what would've happened without the armor's medigel. That didn't count for the fact that the rounds fired at him were modified, piercing right through his armor anyways. 

Only, whoever was firing on him didn’t target anything fatal. Almost as if they were playing a game of cat and mouse with him, torturing him for their entertainment.

Mordin must have seen her full-bodied shiver because he glances up from where he draws some of Archangel’s blood into a small vial. “Something wrong?”

Jai shakes her head and looks down to watch the drawn out rises and falls of Archangel’s bandaged chest. “No. Just ….” Lifting her eyes to Mordin, she sees him bandaging the arm he drew blood from with a look of focus on his face. “Just being reminded of the sick, twisted shit that happens here.”

He merely hums, either in acknowledgement or agreement. He’s been here much longer than she has and though she doesn’t necessarily think the absolute best of a station like this, sometimes the truth of brutality still shocks her. In a way, she hopes she doesn’t become as unaffected by it as so many people seem to be.

Seeing him in obvious contemplation, Jai looks back down to Archangel and wraps her hand around his wrist to check his pulse because his neck is wrapped to protect his fresh sutures closing a wound dangerously close to his carotid artery. His pulse is still weak from the massive blood loss, but their plan to begin transfusions of the synthetic turian blood has hit a significant obstacle. 

Archangel’s body is rejecting the blood and they don’t know why. The immunosuppressants Mordin has begun haven’t turned the tide in their favor and it doesn’t look like they’ll have an answer until he can synthesize a drug catered specifically to whatever in Archangel’s blood is causing the rejection.

“Will need to test samples,” Mordin says as he pockets the vial and pulls off his gloves, tossing them with the used needle in the trash.

Jai nods and releases Archangel’s wrist. “I think I should stay with him to keep an eye out until we can start him on a transfusion.”

“Agreed. Direct monitoring useful in this matter.” Stopping at the door, he glances back to her. “Don’t suspect unforeseen complications. Vitals not troubling.” His expression softens at her slight frown and he adds, “See no reason not to be certain.”

She huffs a weak, humorless laugh. “Yeah. Thanks. I know he’ll be alright, it’s just hard to see. I mean, just yesterday I was talking to the guy.” Taking a deep breath, she lets it out slowly as her shoulders slump. “It’s a bit unnerving after what he did for me.”

“Heard optimism good tool in healing.” He takes his own long inhale. “No scientific basis, but wouldn’t hurt.”

Jai holds back her snort at his usual nature to examine and take apart everything until it is nothing but number formulas, and logic. Watching him go, she waits until the door of the small examination room closes before moving to the counter and leaning back against it. Putting Archangel back together took all she had and she can’t imagine how Mordin can just pull off his stained scrubs as if they hadn’t just spent  _ hours  _ in the operating room.

The smaller of the two exams rooms in which they moved Archangel following his surgery is deathly quiet save for the rumbling, slightly rasping breaths of their patient. Full of enough painkillers to make a krogan pause, he slept in what she hoped was at least at tolerably less painful state of unconsciousness. They’d have to monitor his medication to keep on that thin line between management and overdosing him, his pain bound to be more than any average person could imagine.

When she hears the doors slide open behind her back once more, Jai turns to ask Mordin if he needs anything more and stops in her tracks when she sees a turian male storm in, armed to the teeth with a predatory fury in his eyes. He growls and draws a pistol nearly twice the size - and probably just as powerful - of a any handgun she's ever seen.

She doesn’t think, moving before her mind can completely take in the situation as she rushes to stand between this man and Archangel. Perhaps it’s the ingrained military training that just hasn’t been burned away by her trauma or maybe it’s just her instinct to protect a patient kicking in, but she doesn’t falter as she spreads her arms and stares straight down the barrel of the man’s weapon.

The dead don’t even whisper in her mind as she scowls up at the intimidating turian.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She side steps when he tries to aim around her at Archangel.

“Get out of my way, woman,” he says as he grabs her shoulder and shoves her aside with his greater strength. “This doesn’t concern-”

She cuts him off by grabbing a metal bedpan from the counter and tosses it at him, hitting his head with a reverberating clang. He snarls and gives her enough of an opening to run back to Archangel, picking up the bedpan once more, and take up her position between the two males once more, now armed with the improvised weapon.

Growling, the man reaches out to her, slapping away the bedpan and grabbing her wrist. “This isn’t your fight, you stupid woman. Get. Out. Of. My. Way!”

Jai mocks him with a snarl of her own as she tries to yank her wrist away, fury burning in her eyes as she glares into his own lighter green ones. She tries to punch at his intricately painted face, but he jerks his head away and turns to toss her to the ground when he whir of a weapon arming fills the room, making the both of them freeze.

“Suggest you leave,” Mordin says with a cold stare at the massive turian. “Will not harm patient or friend.”

“Solus.” The turian exhales a short, rough breath and his vocals buzz in his throat as he releases Jai’s arm with a light jerk. “You may think he’s just a patient, but he’s not. In a few hours, he won’t even still be  _ turian _ .”

“Few hours irrelevant. Patient now. You assaulting fellow doctor and threatening patient.” Mordin doesn’t lower his weapon, but the turian refuses to move his weapon away from Archangel so Jai defiantly steps before him once more. “Contacted because post mortem examination of unnamed asari fit description, but will not hesitate to change my mind. Still have armed mechs at the ready.”

The turian glances at Archangel before returning his gaze to Mordin. “I warned you about more than that, about a virus. Check him, check his blood. You’ll see he’s infected and he’s going to either die or change.”

Jai swats his weapon away and, though he lets her move it away, he doesn’t lower it. “We can treat viral infections. We’re  _ doctors _ , in case you didn’t pay attention charging in here like a lunatic.”

The man barks a laugh, harsh and sharp to her ears. “If this hasn’t been cured in millenia, I doubt you’ll find a cure in even an asari’s lifetime.”

“You don’t know Mordin,” she replies, gritting her teeth at his tone.

“Irrelevant,” Mordin snaps at them both, jerking his head towards the door. “Will not say again, Spectre. You will not harm patient. Don’t want to hurt you, but will not hesitate to eliminate danger to patient and doctors.”

The turian - a  _ Spectre  _ apparently - is silent for a long moment before growling and lowering his weapon. “You can protect him so long as he’s your  _ patient _ , but he won’t be for long. And when he changes, be sure to remember you didn’t let me end it while it was still easy and I’m forced to clean up your mistake.” 

He says the last of it to Jai too as he holsters his weapon and she scoffs at him. A low hum and irritated flick of his mandible is his response as he turns to Mordin, letting the senior doctor walk him out of the room still at gunpoint. It isn’t until she feels he is far from the room and Archangel safe for now that she releases a shaky breath, relaxing her hands from a white-knuckled fist she hadn’t known she was holding.

She closes her eyes to ground herself now that her adrenaline begins to wane and reality of just what she did sets in. She just stared down a weapon for a man she doesn’t own a damn thing to. In the end, she could very well have merely slowed down the Spectre and for what? Not to save the man named Archangel, but to protect the idea of him, of what he does and what he means to the station.

It’s a cold truth she admits; that she would have sacrificed Archangel if he was just a normal turian, because she doesn’t think she would have dared to challenge death and it’s many voices.

The sound of the door opening pulls her from her thoughts and she quickly wipes her sweaty palms on her pants in preparation for a new fight with the Spectre. However, instead of the turian, Daniel steps in with a look of concern washing away to relief when he sees her.

“Hey, I just saw Mordin go into his lab with that crazy turian. You okay?” he asks as he closes the door and locks it. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She doesn’t like the idea of the Spectre still being in the clinic, but won’t challenge Mordin while there’s still something much more important. Letting Daniel bring over a fresh bag of saline for Archangel’s IV and hook it up, Jai goes to the cabinets of supplies and pulls out a medkit duffle.

“What’re you doing?”

Without looking back to him, she starts grabbing and packing antiseptic supplies, fresh bandages, and intravenous medications. “It’s not safe here with that maniac out there.” She can’t believe she has the idea and pauses in her packing, letting her confidence take root before continuing. “I’m getting Archangel out of here.”

“What?” Daniel’s voice is little more than a gasp as he rushes over and turns her around by her shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘ _ getting Archangel out of here _ ?’ He just came out of surgery, Jai. And where the heck are you going to take him?”

“I know,” she says, nodding but ignoring him as she returns to shoving the things she’ll need to tend to her patient outside of the clinic. “I’m taking him to my place. It’s within walking distance-”

“That’s crazy.  _ You’re  _ crazy.” Daniel stops her once more, this time with both hands on her shoulders and a look of disbelief in his eyes. “What will you do if something happens to him?”

“The same thing I’d do here. And if anything, you guys are just a comm away. Again, I live within walking distance.” She shrugs off his hands and waves towards the door. “I need saline bags,” she says in explanation as she heads for the door.

“Jai ….”

“Daniel,” she says with the same pleading tone as she turns back to him with a stern expression, “That turian is going to  _ kill _ him!” Stopping, she sighs and rubs her forehead above her brows. “Look. I can’t, with clear conscious, let Archangel stay here. We can’t do anything for him that I can’t do at home. Plus, he’ll be away from any other patients or people who could walk in here wanting to hurt him.”

He closes his eyes for a long time, simply breathing in the near silence of the room. “And just how do you plan to move him? He can’t walk.”

“We have the cargo truck, the one we use to move supplies from the docks.” She groans in annoyance under her breath when he makes a choked cough of surprise. “Look, either you help me or I do it myself. One way or another, I’m getting Archangel out of here.”

It’s a long moment of the two of them staring at each other before it seems her unwavering determination convinces him and he exhales heavily. “Alright,” he says softly before swallowing and nodding. “Alright. Mordin will hate this, but I won’t let you do it alone.”

Jai smiles, the tension between her shoulders at the prospect of actually having to move the massive turian alone. “Thank you, Daniel.”

Huffing with a weak chuckle, he waves his hand in the air before walking towards the door. “You go get Jimmu and the saline and I’ll start the truck. We better do this fast before Mordin finds out.”

“Or worse,” she agrees, quickly locking the door behind them before rushing to the supply room.

The moment the room’s automatic lights sense her, Jimmu lifts his head from where he’s curled up on the pile of her old clothes being used as a makeshift, yet soft bedding. His eyes seem almost questioning as she smiles down to him and grabs bags of saline for Archangel’s IV, shoving them into her duffle.

“I’m sorry I’ve been away so long. A very important patient came in in really bad shape.” Kneeling down, she runs her hand over Jimmu’s soft fur gently scratching at his neck to make him kick a bit. She chuckles and stands, throwing the bag over her shoulder. “Come on. We’re going home with a visitor.”

Ever the smart dog, he stays quiet as she sneaks him out and towards the back end of the clinic where the building has collapsed enough to give them a semblance of a docking bay for the larger supplies. Daniel already has the truck started and waiting, back doors open wide and as much of the hold cleared as can be to allow for the stretcher they’ll bring Archangel out on.

“Jump in, Jimmu, and wait for me,” she says, opening the passenger door to let her companion jump up and onto the seats. She plans to stick with Archangel in the back in case the move wakes him up. Last thing they need is a confused and seriously hurt turian to start moving around and injure himself further.

Tossing the duffle into the bag, she jogs back to Daniel to follow him back into the clinic. So far, it doesn’t seem like Mordin or the Spectre have left the lab or caught on, so she walks with a bit of urgency to her step. Last thing they can have is to be so close and have it all come crashing down.

Returning to Archangel, Jai unhooks the saline bag from the raised hook on the bed and lays it on his chest. She knows the weight shouldn’t cause any pain, but she still freezes when the sound of his pained groan reaches her ears. Her breathing stops as she looks to his face, his eyes unfocused from the pain medications but open.

“Hey,” she says softly as she gently pulls the blankets off of his body. “You’re at the Gozu District clinic. Do you remember me? Doctor-”

His voice is weak as he rasps out her name. “Jai … Shepard ….”

Nodding, she glances up to the sound of Daniel setting up and locking the legs of the stretcher before smiling down to Archangel in reassurance. “We’re going to take you somewhere much safer than the clinic.” She frowns and lays her hand on his hand not bound up in a pressure cast, sliding her fingers into the circle of his own tightened fist. “I won’t lie. It’s going to hurt, but I need you to do something. I need you to be as quiet as you can. Hold my hand and squeeze it all you want, just …” she says, gaze rising to Daniel as he steps beside her in preparation to lift Archangel’s upper body, “Please try not to make any noise. I’ll give you pain killers once we get you out of here.”

Archangel’s only response is the flex of his throat as he swallows and tightening of his hand around hers. She can tell by the look on his face that he’s fallen into a trance of focus she’s seen so many times on the best of the soldiers she’s served with. He turns his head up to the ceiling and Jai takes it as the cue that he’s ready now that his nerves are like steel in anticipation.

She nods, this the best chance they’ll have to move him before the medication completely wears off. Looking to Daniel, she counts softly, bobbing her head. “One, two ….” 

At three, both doctors grab fistfuls of the sheets beneath their patient and lift him. Archangel bites back his pain, only letting a low whine escape in his vocals as he clenches Jai’s hand hard enough that she feels something in her hand grinding together unnaturally. She closes her own eyes and takes long breaths to wash away the pain as she gives his hand a stronger grip in return and lays a hand on his forehead in attempt to calm his pain.

“Just a bit more …. I’m sorry,” she whispers as Daniel quickly lifts Archangel’s legs onto the stretcher. Glancing up to her colleague in question, he nods and she moves to the head of the stretcher to push with her free hand as he pulls. “We’re almost there, Archangel-”

“Garrus,” the turian says, the sound like two stone scraping against each other as his mandibles clamp against his jaw.

She doesn’t know if he’ll actually remember ever telling her his name, but he says it quietly enough that Daniel doesn’t hear. Whether or not Archangel means to tell her, she’ll keep the secret close to her chest, only addressing him as such once he’s more conscious and gives her permission. Right now, she simply smiles and whispers his name back with promise to make the pain go away once they have him safe and sound at her home.

She can’t believe that they manage to get to her apartment without something getting in their way or stopping them outright. Moving Archangel onto the nest of pillows and blankets she made on her bed is seemingly less painful for him, which in turn makes the matter not as stressful for herself and Daniel. Jimmu doesn’t seem to mind the new visitor in his and Jai’s bed, and even sits at Archangel’s feet as if to watch over him. 

Archangel manages to get back to sleep once Jai administers more pain medication and she thinks he might even be more comfortable with how his breath deepens as he rests. Her own injury was nothing more than a few hairline fractures, but Daniel - insistently - bandaged her with some of the pressure wraps in her stock of supplies from the clinic. Thankfully, it was her left hand and didn’t mean she’d have much trouble tending to her patient when the time came that he needed her aid.

Once everything settles down, Jai picks up a datapad to read. Hopefully, Mordin won’t find Archangel and herself gone and decide it’s better they return their patient. She already feels horrible for causing Archangel pain as it is and she doesn’t want to cause him any more unnecessarily, but more than that, she no longer wants him where that insane Spectre can find him.

All it takes is for him to rush in and fire his weapon blindly to possibly kill Archangel.

_ Garrus. A strong name to suit such a determined, strong person. _

Unable to concentrate with her reading, Jai looks to Archangel, but jerks to her feet when she seems something definitely not right. She tosses aside her data pad and rushes the few steps to the bed, waving Jimmu off the bed.

Archangel’s IV line is full of a black substance, seemingly coming from his body as it rises into the saline bag. She watches as it reaches the larger collection of fluid and grows from a few wisps into a large, hideously beautiful bloom of solid black. Mouth falling open at the fact that whatever this is flowing  _ against gravity,  _ she quickly rips it out of Archangel’s arm, afraid that the flow is a trick of the eye and it’s actually some kind of contamination flowing into his body.

Injecting some unknown substance into an already weakened man may just very well be the thing that kills him and she can’t bear the thought.

She quickly grabs a piece of gauze and wrapping, moving to bandage the wound, but stills when she hears the strangest sound coming from Archangel. Much like hot metal cooling, there’s a ticking sort of sound coming from him, his broad chest in particular. She finishes bandaging the small wound from his IV and leans down to get closer to the sound, frowning in confusion at the crackling sound and way his plates seem to grow lighter starting at the highest point of his keel and spreading.

Archangel awakens with a groan, a low, pained whimper beneath his breath and she lays a hand on his chest to both comfort and try to feel the changing plates. “Hold on, I’ll get you some-”

His groan turns into a loud, long yell as her hand  _ breaks through _ the his plates, the large curve of his chest collapsing. She cries out in shock and fear as she jerks her hand away, the plates chipping away like flakes as she watches the wet - that black substance coating everything within these new wounds - tissue beneath rise from his body. His plates crack and fall away from what looks like a new carapace as he curls up, half sitting as he grabs at his head and screams, pain lacing his vocals and ringing in her ears.

She winces and clamps her hands over her ears, completely lost on how to help him. She wasn’t trained for anything quite like this. It’s almost as if he’s hitting a juvenile growth spurt at a rapid, nightmarish and gorey speed. 

He doesn’t have the soft plates of a young turian, so his growth is  _ destroying the original plates. _

She distantly hears Jimmu howling as she drops her hands to grip Archangel’s shoulders to support him as his cowl pierces through the back of his carapace and widens, growing. His agonized screams never end as his shoulders shift beneath her hands and she snatches her hands away just in time for sharp, jutting plates to rise from his shoulders, stretching the hide until it rips in bloody, black tatters.

Even the unplated parts of his body stretch and tear through as his body  _ grows _ , bones snapping and shifting beneath the muscles as they too extend. His hands around his head flex as they deform and reform into much larger ones, his talons slicing through his hide as they grow into sharp points.

He coughs up that black fluid onto her sheets, clumps shining in the light of her apartment as he gurgles and spits it out of his throat. When it seems like he gets it all out, his vocals and voice shifts, deepening into growls as his body twitches and the transformation slows. His hands relax and fall from his head as his painful whines fade away into rough, raspy pants.

Jai doesn’t know she had been moving away from him until she nearly trips over Jimmu halfway across her apartment. She swallows and watches with wide eyes as Archangel doesn’t move, head down as his massive shoulders move with his breaths.

“Ar … Archangel?” Her voice is a breath and she barely hears it herself, but  _ he does _ by the sudden quiet of his vocals and slight turn.

When his lifts his head to her, she feels her body grow cold at the sight of his glowing blue eyes and forwardmost  _ fangs _ .


	7. My New Skin

Nihlus paces the room, growling in rage over the damn doctors stepping in his way when he could have killed Archangel while the he was still incapacitated from his injuries. If not for that incessant and infuriating human woman slowing him down with a damn bedpan, Nihlus could have killed the infected turian and been out of the clinic before Solus even left the clinic's other room.  _Now_  Nihlus is stuck waiting until Solus could find pointlessly scientific proof of what Nihlus claims, continuously checking the time and trying to listen for any displaced sounds tainted with either hints or pain or fear.

Solus, head deep in a microscope, hums and Nihlus' mandibles twitch in irritation. Damn salarians - especially  _this_ one - and their need to always make sense of what will never have a rhyme or reason. Nihlus would rather not be proven right because the doctor wants to understand instead of let Nihlus clean up the mess before it becomes a bigger problem.

He stops in his pacing and glances to the body bag containing an asari brutalized by either Cydian or one of her 'children.' Balling his fists, he rumbles under his breath and looks to the back of Solus' head. "How much longer do you need before you'll let me do my damn job?"

Solus hums, not looking up and the sound makes Nihlus grind his teeth. "Foreign agent invading cells, causing damage and eventual cellular death. Replacing genetic markers with mutated DNA. Interesting …."

"Right. It's all very  _interesting_." Nihlus growls and turns his attention to the door of the lab that leads back out into the main clinic. "I  _told you_ it would change him. Now let me out so I can save us all the trouble."

"Need to remain secure for patient safety-"

"Dammit, Solus!" Nihlus slams a fist on the counter beside him, making the vials and equipment on top rattle from his rage. "This isn't something you can cure! You can't make sense of it! Now open this door or I'll open it myself!"

Solus huffs, finally glancing up from his microscope. "Fury unfounded. Will take time, but can develop treatment."

"You can't cure something that has existed since turians learned to write of them." Opening his tool, Nihlus ignores the man as he swipes it over the door lock, using a Spectre grade decryption program to hack the lock. "The only way to  _treat_ it is a bullet in the head," he says as he leaves the room, tool encryption the lock to slow Solus down, and storms towards the opposite exam room, .

He knows something is wrong the second the door opens without need of his tool's hacking systems. He doesn't even need to see the bed now empty save for a very different turian being treated for a cracked cowl by the other human doctor. Archangel couldn't have changed, escaped, and the gruesome mess be cleaned up while Nihlus was only a locked door away.

The transformation just isn't that  _quiet_.

"Where is he?" Nihlus snarls, rushing the human doctor and grabbing the collar of his lab coat to yank him off the ground. "Where is he?!"

The man grips Nihlus' hand and tries to gain purchase on the floor, failing when he can only manage to scrape the toes of his shoes over its stained surface. "I don't … I don't know what you're talking-"

"Don't lie to me!" Hearing the lab door's lock begins to run through a decryption program, Nihlus growls and tries a new tactic. He relaxes his posture, letting his facial expression soften, and loosens his grasp on the doctor's collar to let him back onto his feet. "Look, you like her, right? The female doctor? I can tell you do." It was pretty hard to ignore the way his words caused a very unprofessional concern flicker over the doctor's face, which gave Nihlus an upper hand.

It isn't hard to convince someone to reveal secrets when threatening someone they apparently have affections for.

"Help me out here," Nihlus says, forcing his voice to remain soft and encouraging. "She's in trouble. There are people who will want to hurt her if she's with Archangel. She is, isn't she?" Nihlus thrums in approval when the man swallows and nods. "Let me help her. Tell me where she is and I can make sure no one after Archangel tries to find her." When he sees doubt flood the man's expression, Nihlus steps back. "Do you really want to risk it? I may be wrong, but I'm a Spectre. I don't have any reason to do anything but make sure they're okay."

Nihlus credits his mentor Saren for teaching him how to lie like some of the best species because the man falls for Nihlus' concerned and helpful tone. He also admits it's easier to play someone when you appeal to some kind of sense of protection they may have over another, even if the female human probably has no clue. In any other situation, Nihlus wouldn't even have the mind to pity the man, but, right now, the obvious fawning plays right towards his own goals.

"She's … she's at her apartment." The man wrings his hands. "She took Archangel there."

"Give me the location," Nihlus says, rushing the man so he can get out of the clinic before Solus opens the lock. "Hurry!"

The sudden increase in volume in Nihlus' voice make the man flinch, but he nods rapidly and opens his tool, sending what Nihlus hopes is the location over to his own tool. Nihlus can't wait to make sure, too rushed to get to Archangel and put a bullet in the poor bastard's head before it gets dangerous for the foolish human woman. Rushing out of the clinic just as he hears the sound of the lab room doors opening, Nihlus shoves aside anyone in his way to the, thankfully, near apartment. He pulls his weapon before he gets to the rundown, dirty apartment building and waits until just as his hacking program opens the main doors before using his shoulder to shove the useless pieces of rusted metal the rest of the way aside as they grind from worn out - and probably unserviced - servos.

He finds the third apartment on the main floor - a Jaiden Shepard's apartment - and immediately hears a flanged screaming of agony. Not bothering with the damn lock while time is short for the female doctor, Nihlus just shoots the lock with his high powered weapon and kicks it open.

The apartment is small, barely large enough for more than a single person to walk comfortably between the sparse furniture. What hits him immediately is the foul, distinct scent that comes from the rapid - and excruciatingly painful - shift from turian into Umbrus Nocturni, worse than the smell of a normally rotting corpse. The change  _is_ decay, thick as it coats his tongue and gags him, burning his eyes.

His abrupt entrance makes the woman from the clinic spin around from where she sounds and stare at him with wide eyes. Her skin is paler than before, eyes haunted and mouth open in silent shock. An animal at her feet makes a growling, sharp sound as it hunches itself into an obvious attack posture, though it seems unable to decide where to direct its attack, eyes bolting between Nihlus and the other side of the apartment.

Archangel.

Rumbling deeply, Nihlus charges into the apartment and pushes the woman aside, unconsciously trying to both get her out of the way and create a barrier between her and the newly changed Nocturni. However, Nihlus quickly learns he's underestimated the speed of a freshly turned Nocturni mere seconds after the agonized screams have died down. Never having faced a Nocturni so soon after the mutation, Nihlus learns the hard truth of their immediate aggression when Archangel charges from the bed.

Still smeared with cobalt, now useless turian blood and the thick black mucus of a Nocturni's change, Archangel throws Nihlus into the wall, sending him through it and into an even more cramped bathroom. The female human screams something, her animal mimicking her cries, but Nihlus can't hear over the heavy, animalistic snarls from Archangel as follows his prey. Ears ringing and vision black for a moment, Nihlus is too slow in recovering with his weapon and only comes to in time to see Archangel's massive hand wrap around his armored cowl and hauls up off the floor single handedly, slamming him against the tiled wall. Nihlus isn't sure if he should be thankful or not that the wall merely cracks and dents around his body instead of collapsing under the force.

Archangel's growling grows as he holds Nihlus to the wall, leaning in and pinning him with those eerily glowing eyes. "You knew this would happen to me," Archangel snarls, lifting Nihlus off the wall just enough to slam him back against it.

Nihlus groans in pain, sure that he's got at least a few broken ribs, if not something much worse that his adrenaline is masking at the moment. Still, he has enough mind to scowl back at the Nocturni. "This? No," Nihlus hisses, gripping Archangel's hand to keep the Nocturni's attention up and not on his other hand as he slowly reaches for another weapon loaded with bullets specially designed to stop a Nocturni in its tracks. "But I  _warned_ you, didn't I,  _Archangel_?" That only gets him another slam into the wall that's slowly cracking more and more beneath the assault. Nihlus grunts and scowls at the Nocturni. "I told you there was something on this station. I told you there was a Nocturn-"

"Those don't  _exist_ ," Archangel growls in response and Nihlus looks into his eyes, not flinching at the Nocturni's rage.

"Then how do you," Nihlus starts, groaning when Archangel slams him again.

"Shut up and tell me what the fuck she did to me."

"Archangel," the female woman starts from the hole in the wall behind Archangel's back, "You're going to kill-"

Nihlus growls, thinking that he wouldn't  _be_ in this position if not for her and the other doctors. "You're the reason I'm in this mess-" He's cut off by a vicious snarl from the Nocturni holding him up.

"Don't speak to her." Archangel turns his head to address the woman, but doesn't take his eyes off of Nihlus, not giving him the opportunity to draw his weapon and finally take Archangel out. "I won't kill him until I get my answers."

"I told you," Nihlus says, rumbling at the stubbornness of this damn turian. "You're  _Nocturni_ now. You met a huge female turian, right? That's the woman I warned you about." Nihlus takes a deeper breath when Archangel gives him a bit of reprieve from the wall. "She infected you. You're Nocturni whether you like it or not."

"You're lying." Yet, Archangel doesn't sound so convinced.

The human woman's face changed from concern to determination as she stares Nihlus in the eyes. "Mordin can treat this infection. He can treat anything-"

"Not likely," Nihlus interrupts, gaze turning back to the Nocturni covered in a substance suspiciously like chunks of flesh. "Look, Archangel. You ignored my warnings before. You don't have to believe me, but how else would you explain  _this_?" He jerks his chin towards Archangel, seeing doubt flicker in the Nocturni's glowing blue eyes. "There isn't any 'treatment,' no 'cure' besides death."

That truth only makes Archangel angrier, seemingly without an outlet besides pulling Nihlus from the wall. He paused, though, and Nihlus can see the warring thoughts in the other turian's eyes. Archangel flexes his mandibles, fangs shining from the light coming in through the massive hole in the wall.

"Archangel," the human woman says, feet crunching in the debris of her ruined bathroom as she comes to them. She lays a hand on Archangel's arm and looks up to him, that fear Nihlus saw when he entered completely gone from her face. "Put him down. He won't hurt you." She glances Nihlus' way before looking back up to Archangel. "If he does try anything," she begins, smiling softly, "Then you can kill him."

How such a small human with seemingly little relation to Archangel can talk down a newly made Nocturni from killing is something that will probably confuse Nihlus for the rest of his life. Massive as he is, Archangel looks down to her with a low, thoughtful hum as if truly considering her request. It makes Nihlus pause in drawing his weapon, further stunning him when Archangel exhales a deep breath and nods, stepping back and setting Nihlus down. Nihlus stares at the tiny, overly pale skinned human in shock, unsure if he's ever heard of a Nocturni - especially so newly changed - relenting when their potential meal is right in their hands. Even more shocking is when Archangel turns away from Nihlus and follows when the female still carries that soft smile and waves a hand out of the bathroom. He can still tell that the Nocturni is keeping his attention on him, just waiting for a stab in the back - or, in this case, a bullet in the head.

Reluctantly - and with no other choice - Nihlus follows out of the trashed bathroom and into the tiny apartment only made smaller with the massive, mountainous Nocturni starting to space the small space between Nihlus, the female human, and the only exit out if the situation spins on its head. Archangel flicks his mandibles angrily, growling and snarling like a caged animal as he holds his hands before his eyes. The sight is mesmerizing, something Nihlus has never seen before without a weapon in hand separating him from the danger of a very irritable Nocturni.

It's as if the tiny human is the only thing keeping any kind of order, and Nihlus isn't too blind to to see that her will stills his own hands from drawing his weapon. He can't explain how an unarmed and completely unassuming human can hold such power over the entire situation.

The odd creature - Nihlus believes he's seen it described as a type of 'dog' from Earth - runs to stand at the human's feet as she takes a place in the center of the room, pulling over and sitting on a small chair. The fact that she's taken a position directly between Nihlus and the deadly, unpredictable Archangel isn't lost on Nihlus, but something makes him think that she may actually be the mediator this situation needs.

Struggling not to walk out his own anxiousness, Nihlus flexes his hands a few times before settling with crossing his arms. He bites back the hiss of pain at the tenderness in his ribs and beginning of a massive headache that's undoubtedly a concussion of some magnitude, not wanting to give away any sign of his state. There's a guarantee Archangel already senses Nihlus' weakener state, but there isn't much he can do to hide it besides act unaffected.

Nihlus stares at Archangel as his stalks the short distance from one wall of the apartment entry to the other, his hands since dropped and head jerking in denial as his vocals howl in a mix of distress, confusion, and absolute fury. There is no telling how long passes before Archangel pauses, head rises to gaze at the wall directly before him as a deep thrum fills the apartment. Nihlus' nerves rise at the sudden suspicion that Archangel has come to a conclusion that he will not be persuaded into abandoning.

Turning those eerily glowing eyes full of a malicious hunger to Nihlus, Archangel pulls his mandibles to his jaw. "You're going to kill her?" He waits for a nod in response from Nihlus, though Nihlus isn't entirely sure of where Archangel is going. A nagging feeling scratches at his skull, and he doesn't like that not liking the thought as it immediately comes to mind. His fears are realized when Archangel growls and all but demands, "I want in."

"What?" Nihlus flicks his mandibles in surprised, but immediately rumbles in stern disbelief, shaking his head. "You must think I'm insane to let you walk around freely." His lifts his chin and stares up at the Nocturni, even if he looks like a fledgling compared to Archangel's new, intimidating size. "You must be forgetting your lore. Nocturni  _feast on blood_ , in case you're skipping over that important truth. I can't just let you walk around and feeding on people."

"He doesn't have to," the female says, shaking her head once. "The clinic. We have blood-"

"Synthetic blood won't work." Nihlus jerks his chin towards Archangel, flicking his mandibles iritatibly. There's no way Archangel is stepping out of this apartment while Nihlus still lives. "You probably already tried it when he was injured," he adds, looking to the human, "Right?"

Her mouth shifts and her brows furrow. She seems to think for a moment before she lifts her gaze to his. "We can always set up a donor incentive. Credits or something."

Archangel growls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "I'm not  _drinking blood_ like some animal."

"You no longer have a choice, Arch-"

Archangel cuts off Nihlus before he can finish, raising his voice. "I will not lower myself like some mindless beast."

Nihlus grumbles in annoyance. "Say that all you want, but there'll be a point where you'll have starved yourself to the point that instinct kicks in. You starve yourself, you lose control." His rumbles and drops his arms, motioning to the human woman with every intent to strike a nerve. "What do you think will happen then? Are you willing to put her at risk when you go into a feeding frenzy?"

"I won't …." Archangel stops, looking to her and letting out a long breath through his nostrils. "No. I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Archangel," the human frowns and stands, glancing at Nihlus before her gaze moves to and stays on the Nocturni. "I can help you. Let me help you." She frowns and lays a hand on Archangel's slime covered stomach, unable to reach very high on the now monstrously built Nocturni. "You won't be killing or hurting anyone."

Archangel's shoulders sink as he lets out a low, pained whine. "I don't … I don't want to be this …  _thing_."

"You can't go back," Nihlus says, sighing because he actually feels bad for Archangel.

This Nocturni holding a firm control of himself despite what has to be a raging need to feed and replenish the energy he wasted changing makes him pause, wonder if death is the only answer. Perhaps without Cydian's influence over her children immediately surrounding Archangel as soon as he mutated, the newly born Nocturni can take control over his urges. Maybe it's less the taste of blood itself, but the adrenaline of the hunt, of feeling life seep from a body and into themselves. If this human is right, if she can provide Archangel with blood untainted by death, then Archangel may be the first Nocturni to overcome his urges.

"Mordin, Doctor Solus, will find a cure. Don't worry," the female says, offering a weak, forced smile of hope across her lips. "He can cure anything. It's a virus, right," she asks Nihlus, glancing his way.

Nihlus can't help but notice the human hasn't removed her hand from Archangel, nor the Nocturni move to separate them. Perhaps it's something neither has noticed, his state too disjointed to focus on anything outside his tumultuous thoughts and her mind on fruitlessly trying to fix this.

He's more reluctant than he'd have imagined as he shakes his head once. "No. Solus can't." The looks from the two of them, hers of defiance despite her visible worry and his one of absolute defeat. "This isn't something to be fixed. Calling it a 'virus' is really the only way to try and understand it, but it isn't really so simple." He takes a long breath, exhaling it with a sigh of regret that surprises him given how many Nocturni he's killed without a second thought. "This viral aspect constantly changes, mutating within your body. You try to treat it and it only changes, gets stronger, and defies logic and explainable science. But that doesn't cover what it is in its entirety. You can't always see what makes a Nocturni what it is. It's-"

"A curse," Archangel says, closing his eyes and balling his fists. "No longer turian. Nothing but a monster."

The female human pulls her hand away and looks away, dipping her head as she closes her eyes. For all the good she did fighting Nihlus in order to save Archangel's life, it might feel pointless when it's all for naught. She saved a turian, but only so he could become a Nocturni.

Looking around the apartment and anywhere else but the hopeless display before him, Nihlus hums in consideration of the situation. He can't really convince himself to kill Archangel, not when he isn't presented with good enough reason. Nihlus hunts and kills Nocturni because they are dangerous, killing and devouring innocent people. A small part of him, one he thought long since dead, wants to try letting Archangel live, even going so far as to let the Nocturni help him hunt down Cydian.

He isn't sure whether he should appreciate the fact that the voice still lives or if he should try and mask it, slowing starving it until it withers away as Saren's has.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to exhale before opening them, Nihlus looks to the two on the other side of the trashed apartment and clears his throat to get their attention. When they look, one curious and the other defeated, he says, "We should find you somewhere safe." He motions the surrounding room. "Cydian will come looking for you and if I was able to find you this easily, she can too."

"Why would she want to find me?" Archangel scowls, mandible flicking out in distaste. "To kill me?"

"She'd kill her first," Nihlus answers, tilting his head towards the female human. "Then she'd hunt you down. She sees the Nocturni she creates as her children, her responsibility to teach how to survive. I don't know what made her leave you, but she won't let that stand. She'll come looking for you." He huffs a humorless, dry laugh. "You really didn't manage to go far to get to help."

"I thought I was dying." Archangel growls at Nihlus before his face relaxes and his gaze turns to the tiny human. "I didn't know I'd be putting you in danger. The clinic-"

"Cydian isn't one to attack a clinic in search of you." Nihlus steps closer, nodding his head as he crosses his arms over his sore chest. "But she will follow the rumors. You know how people talk, so you can guess what will happen when she learns that the female human doctor-"

"I have a  _name_." She curls her lip and takes a few steps to stand before Nihlus, shoulders squared and just as ready for a fight as she was at the clinic. "It's  _Shepard_ to you."

Nihlus grunts in his throat, not at all impressed by her display only made more ridiculous by her tiny animal growling at her feet. "Fine,  _Shepard_. You aren't safe here."

She scoffs. "Of course I can't! You two trashed it!" Throwing up her hands, she paces between the two males. "But I can't just afford a new place! I barely managed to cover this place and I doubt I can find anything for the same price."

"You can stay at one of my safehouses." Archangel steps forward, halting her in her when he gets in her path. "I owe you for saving my life and you're in danger because of me." He laughs once, but the sound is blatantly false and harsh to Nihlus' ears. "You want to help me? Then let me help you."

Shepard takes a moment to stare up at Archangel before her posture relaxes, she sighs, and finally nods. "Okay. Okay." She turns to Nihlus and he can see her visibly swallow. "What about the clinic? Can I still work?"

"No." Nihlus can't understand what's so hard about the idea of Cydian hunting Archangel down, even so much as stalking Shepard wherever she goes. As soon as Cydian finds out Shepard is involved, there is no place safe for her that isn't with Nihlus or - he reluctantly agrees - Archangel. "As soon as Cydian has your scent, she will never relent. She has all the time in the universe."

"What the hell am I supposed to do, then?! Sit around like I'm under some kind of house arrest?! And I still need to get that blood  _somehow_." Shepard shakes her head, closing her eyes to take a few long, calming breaths. "I can't just sit around and do nothing. I have to help people, occupy myself somehow." She pauses and looks between the two males, eyes pleading.

Archangel's gaze drops to the destroyed bed in the corner beside Nihlus before he gives a slight nod. "You can help my team. They need a medic."

Shepard is hopeful for a moment before her expression falls, a hint of something frantic in her face just before she regained control. "I can't fight. I'll only get them killed."

"You don't have to." Archangel hums in thought before his glowing eyes rise up to pin Nihlus in place. "You will help us get her in with my team."

"Me? How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

Archangel motions himself. "I can't just go there like this." He growls and his expression tightens in anger before he forces himself to relax enough to say, "They're used to me being gone long periods at a time, doing my own reconnaissance or solo work. They also don't question when I show up in armor, leave my helmet on, and give instructions." He turns to Nihlus once more. "You will wear my armor, go there, and act like me. I can use your helmet's mic to convince them that Ja - Shepard," he says, glancing her way with a quick flicker of apology in his eyes - obviously a sign that the two know each other well enough that he knows her full name, "Is there to help. They're familiar with the clinic and it's doctors. They'll trust her if I do." He flicks his mandibles at her and his face looks like he's trying to offer a softer expression. "Which I do."

Shepard gives him a weak smile before nodding once. "Yeah. I can do that. But what about you?"

"If you agree, I'd like you to spend most of your time in the safe house I provide. I can watch you from there-"

"I think I need to interrupt to remind you that I would be the best to pick out signs that Cydian's following Shepard," Nihlus says, rumbling in irritation. He will  _not_ be forced aside when he has a the only knowledge on how to kill Nocturni. That, and he still wants to keep his eyes on Archangel even if the two seem so confident he can control himself. "I'm the only one who knows how to kill her."

Archangel scowls at Nihlus, growling softly in agitation before he takes another glance at Shepard and pulls his mandibles in, giving up on his protest. "Alright. I can show you the safe house. I don't plan to leave Shepard alone, but it might be good to have a place we can meet up and discuss or plan for killing  _her_ ," he says, snarling at the word and barring his teeth.

"Fine." Nihlus knows there isn't any convincing otherwise. It's not a perfect situation, but he can't really argue when he has no other options on finding and killing Cydian. At least this way, he can use Archangel as bait for her - and he's sure Archangel knows it too. Rubbing his head, he motions Shepard towards the bed. "Get whatever you can carry. I'm sure we can find whatever else you need."

"What about me?" Archangel stares at his hands and body. "I can't just wear any of my old gear." He breathes a deep breath. "And if she can't get to the clinic, then how will I …."

"Eat?" Nihlus provides, shrugging. "I'm sure we can figure something out. I'm sure it won't be too hard to convince Solus." He glances towards Shepard. "Right?"

Shepard stops her walk to what has to be a closet and nods. "Yeah. He'll be curious, but I'm sure he'll do it if I ask him not to ask questions. He trusts me, knows I'm not out to do something horrible with it." She turns to Archangel at her side and lays her hand on his. "And I'm sure there are plenty of tailors and arms makers that won't ask questions."

"Has to be," Nihlus agrees. "Cydian and her children aren't walking around without something to blend in." He twitches his mandibles at the slip when Archangel glares up at him beneath his brow plates. "As best as they can."

"Right." Shepard nods and chuckles, though the sound is light and a bit forced as she speaks to Archangel. "And we can get you washed off once we get there."


	8. Love Falls Out Of Me

Jai Shepard is a question Garrus doesn't even know how to begin to answer.

Meeting her, he knew she was different, a beacon of light in the darkness that stuck to his plates and hide like a second, diseased skin. Her white skin and hair seemed to defy the filth of Omega, a pureness that he marveled at the moment she stepped through the crowds to trade with him. He knew she was strong, walked with more than what being a mere doctor would give, and when she turned away from him only to falter from within, Garrus stepped behind her without hesitation.

Even with his strict adherence to self-imposed rules of separation and detachment, he stopped and sang to her with his harmonics as he had seen his father do so many times for his own mother, lifting her out of whatever her mental anguish must have been.

It was that same light that pulled him to her when he was dying, burning from within. He doesn't remember everything that happened once he made it to the clinic, but he knows that she saved him, tending to his wounds and bringing him to the safety of her own home. She stayed by his side as the pain tore through his body, soon growing into an unimaginable agony as something unnatural happened to him.

When he looked to her with the eyes of a monster, she didn't run.

Given time, Garrus would have believed the Spectre when he was told that there would be no cure for what has become of him but death. He acted in violence at first, protecting himself out of instinct, but he only  _continued_ protecting himself because of Jai. She and Nihlus knew each other, and the tension in the room was high, weighing them down with a heavy truth that the night would very well end in violence unless all three of them came to the same agreement. Garrus could have ripped Nihlus' throat out, had no reason not to just out of spite for not warning him of what would happen, but Jai stepped forward.

She touched him, ignoring the filth of flesh and blood on his disgusting, monstrous body as she laid a hand on him, and asked him to put Nihlus down.

Whatever has happened to him, whatever will continue to happen, seemed to mean nothing to her as she put her little form directly in the center of the problem surrounding the three of them. Nihlus spouted warnings of impossibilities that challenge everything Garrus knows to be true, but she still stood firm on her desire to help. He can't understand how she could believe in something not even from her own people enough to promise to help him, to accept what should be supernatural lies even as she's told of the dangers already surrounding her.

He knows that he should deny her, and deny what's become of him in turn, but he's afraid. He's still drawn to her irresistible pull and feels his chest burn at the possibility that he's put her in danger, that he could be what brings her harm in any way.

Watching Jai pack what few things from her apartment she can fit into a duffle to take with her to his safehouse, Garrus regrets the fact that she must leave her home behind because of him. Not only did he and Nihlus destroy it beyond use, but seeking her out at the clinic has put her in the sights of the beast that made him the monster he is now, a woman named Cydian, and her apparent 'children.' Add to that the fact that Jai can no longer travel safely without him at her side, meaning she can't work at the clinic, and he feels more to blame than he thinks offering the safehouse in mind could make up for.

"I need these," she says as she shoves medical supplies back into an already full duffle, zipping it up. "Just in case and to keep it from going to waste. I'm sure Mordin wouldn't mind me taking it once I explain the situation."

"Don't say too much," Nihlus interrupts, holding out a hand for the bag. "The less people know, the better for everyone."

Jai purses her lips at Nihlus' outstretched hand, finally handing over the duffle. Looking to Garrus waiting as far out of the way as he can get by the door, she smiles. "I have another pair of sheets we can use to cover you up."

Motioning him to come over with her hand, she gets down on her knees and reaches beneath her bed. Garrus hums under his breath, forcing himself to ignore what parts of his body he can see in edges of his vision and stare off at the far wall as he walks. Jai's pet dog stands up from where it lays at Nihlus' feet in the bathroom as he approaches, ears perking forward at attention. The entirety of it and the Spectre's gazes itches on Garrus' hide and puts him on edge, but Jai sitting up and glancing his way helps to cool the the air.

"They aren't much," she says as she stands and shakes out a pair of light cream sheets, "But I'm sure it's better than walking around naked and covered in gunk."

Garrus flicks his mandibles in a slight wince, eyes flicking to the destroyed bathroom wall and massive crater in the shower wall. He doesn't regret taking some of his anger and confusion out on Nihlus, but he would've much rather preferred to be able to throw the Spectre around somewhere that didn't seem like Jai's only place to feel safe at besides the clinic. Rumbling in apology, he reaches for the sheet, but pauses when it forces his hand into his focus.

At the sight of a hand that shouldn't  _be_ his, much too large with talons too long and sharp, Garrus frowns. He curls and relaxes his fingers, turning his hand over before his eyes with a slight buzz of disgust in his vocals. If his own hand looks and feels so wrong, then he hates the thought of finally cleaning off the filth masking his hideous new form with a sense of deniability. Getting himself clean will reveal his new, true self for all to see, but like this, he can still imagine the body he's trapped in isn't really himself.

A tiny, pale human hand lands in his palm and he blinks at the suddenness, snapping out of his trance. Lifting his eyes from the too small hand lying in the massive turian's, Garrus finds Jai's light blue eyes glistening with a soft sadness. She smiles weakly and shifts her hand in his to grip his finger with a slight squeeze, as if offering strength she shouldn't feel obligated to give.

"How about we get out of here and you can actually get clean?" She says, voice gentle as she motions him to duck down.

It's probably for the best that she wraps the fabric around him, draping and tying it in a way that hides most of his new, odd body shapes. She lifts a bit of it over his head in a hood, her eyes speaking of understanding when their gazes meet. He thrums in thanks, too frustrated with this new form to verbally admit he needs her as much as she's willing to give. Nihlus offers no sympathy and Garrus doesn't expect him to when Garrus can't even draw on his own strength, but with Jai it's different. Her touch and aid doesn't feel like the pity it would seem from a turian or an obscure fascination.

He wonders if she'd treat any other patient as she does him if this happened to them and wants to believe that it's really just because it's him, that there is at least one person on this damn station that wants to look after  _him_. He knows it isn't fair to look forward to that, though, when he hasn't given Jai anything to help her see him as anything but Archangel, a man on the run with no one else to turn to. She's given her name and he can't even remember if he gave his or if it was just a pain-induced hallucination.

"We need to go," Nihlus says, leaning up from the wall and coming closer with a jerk of his head to the door. "We've been here long enough. Pretty sure someone's going to come around to check on all the noise." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder and gives a pointed look to Garrus. "And see why there's a giant dent in their wall."

Garrus ignores the man and points to the big duffle of Jai's personal things. "Want me to take that? You can carry your dog," he says the last word with a hum of question, not sure if he remembered the right term.

Jai's smile warms as she nods. "Jimmu. His name is Jimmu," she says as she hands her duffle to Garrus before turning around and patting her thighs. "Come on, big guy, we're moving out."

Jimmu makes a high yip of sound as he stands and trots behind Jai towards the small kitchenette of her apartment. Garrus watches the little animal as it passes, it's curled tail wagging, and flutters his mandible in slight amusement. This little dog apparently makes Jai happy despite the circumstances of her entire home falling down around her thanks to what amounts to two strangers tearing the walls down and the sight of the smile on her face as she straps a lead onto the dog makes Garrus hope that it won't be the last time he sees that smile. With the things she's determined to do to help Garrus, Jai just might need that bit of happiness, that warm light of her own.

When he looks to the Spectre, Garrus finds the man studying him and he snaps his mandibles to his jaw. He wants to hate the man who's so determined to find a reason to put a bullet in his head, wants to make himself feel a need to fight, but he can't. Even if he wants to act ignorant of what's happening, of the new world he's in, Garrus has to face the facts. There's something different and very wrong with him now. He can see it.

He can  _feel_ it.

If Garrus loses himself as Nihlus claims, if the myths are true, then Garrus doesn't want to keep the Spectre from killing him. If Garrus truly is a … an Umbrus Nocturni, a monster born of darkness and superstition, then he has to accept that the man wouldn't just lie about the other unbelievable facts of Garrus' new life. As ridiculous as he wants to imagine the fact that he'll need to  _drink blood_  to live, Garrus knows that if Nocturni are real, the one ever prevalent myth of their hunger must be too. He wants to fight from degrading himself to that point, but if his body acts without his control, he expects Nihlus to end him.

He'd much rather die than put someone who's giving him as much as Jai is risk.

"Hey." Jai's voice draws the two males' attentions and Garrus finds her with her brows furrowed. "Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine, Shepard," Nihlus answers before Garrus can come up with anything to divert her obvious concern for himself over the stranger known for pulling a weapon on them. He flicks his mandible in annoyance, narrowing his eyes at the Spectre, but Nihlus ignores him and jerks his chin towards the exit instead. "Let's go."

Garrus huffs, a slight growl to his voice as he speaks. "Afraid to turn your back on me?"

"I don't need to be afraid when I'm sure of what you'd do," Nihlus responds, shouldering the duffle in his hand and pulling his mandibles to his jaw, humming authoritatively. "Now I suggest you go with Shepard, I'll take up the rear."

"Would you stop it?" Jai curls her lip at them, hand hovering over her door's interface. "Stop posturing or we're never going to get anywhere." She turns to Garrus and her expression softens. "Come on," she says with a tilt of her head towards the door, tone requesting.

Garrus gives the Spectre one more sidelong glance before shouldering the duffle of Jai's belongings, taking a moment to situate it properly on his new, massive and jutting shoulder plates before following Jai out into the dark and crowded Omega street. He's not sure if the discomfort in the position is something he'll just need to get used to now or due to not having full spacial awareness of this body, but it doesn't feel like he's going to lose the duffle, so he bites down his frustrations for when he's alone. Hopefully he can get to the point where he at least tolerates the sensation of being in an alien body and be able to use it efficiently to track down and kill the  _voltura_  that did this to him. Even if he lets Nihlus kill him afterwards, Garrus will die knowing he made Cydian pay, and hopefully in the worst way possible.

The safehouse Garrus chooses is within the Kima district, close to the large apartment building his Archangel team chose as their preferred hideout. Personally, Garrus didn't like the idea of multiple members of his team together in one place at any given time, but they seemed to thrive with the close proximity. He liked to maintain anonymity even with them, always contacting them either through comm or in full armor, helmet and voice modulation included. This way, he can easily escort Jai to his team whenever she decides she wants to offer medical aid without her being directly in danger by staying permanently with them on those few times he has to leave her alone to hunt for Cydian.

He can trust them to fight for him, join his mission, but he can't trust them with Jai's life. Not when he hasn't come to the point of trusting them with himself yet.

When he links the safehouse door's lock to Jai's - and reluctantly, Nihlus' - omni-tools, the interface flickers with the new encryption data before unlocking, the door sliding open with a slight hiss. The lights take a moment longer than usual to come to full illumination due to the amount of time this place has been unused, but Garrus is happy to see that his time since claiming this apartment hasn't lead to squatters. The place doesn't show any signs of intruders, so he knows it's still safe, but he'll be sure to decode a new encryption for the locks just in case.

Rumbling curiously, Garrus looks to Jai to see her impression of the apartment. It's far from as cramped as the one she left behind, completely open with a slightly raised bedroom and large bed below a holographic display she can program to act like windows, but it is in no means large enough for the three of them. With hopes, this fact will convince Nihlus he isn't wanted, but Garrus does wish the plan to appear uncomfortable to a second individual didn't include himself. Still, if Jai allows him to stay and keep watch over her, then he can always sleep on the couch.

He doesn't usually need much sleep anymore since coming to Omega anyways.

"It's nice," Jai says, eyes roaming the apartment as she steps into clearing between seating area and kitchenette. "Much bigger than my old place." She chuckles and kneels to remove the lead from Jimmu's collar. "Right, big guy?"

The dog seems reserved over the new place, watching Jai as she rolls up the lead and starts to explore the apartment room. He looks to Nihlus and Garrus as they both enter to let the door close and lock behind them, dark eyes seeming to study them intently before his ears perk at a soft noise from Jai as she climbs the short stairs to the sleeping area.

"Wow," she says as she presses her hands on the bed, pushing down and smiling at Garrus. "This is definitely better than my bed by far. I can't wait to sleep on it."

Garrus smiles softly, a purr at the base of his throat, when she flops her body onto the bed. Jimmu barks and jumps up beside her, making a walk of the bed's perimeter before standing over her and licking her. She giggles and playfully waves her hands at him, but it only makes the dog wag his curled tail.

Garrus almost feels like an intruder, watching something he isn't supposed to be a part of, that he doesn't deserve. Clearing his throat, Garrus sets down Jai's belongings to lean against the base of the small breakfast bar. She still carries that warm, happy smile when she sits up and looks to him.

"I think I should probably get cleaned," he says, moving his gaze from her and shrinking under the feeling of having to come to terms with what he'll see beneath the foul filth covering his body. "And then I should probably find someone who I can get clothes from …. Definitely need armor."

"And I'm not letting you out of my sight," Nihlus says, a grim expression on his face as he sets down the duffle in his own hand and watching Garrus as he moves towards the bathroom door. "Not until you have your first feeding and I know you have control of yourself."

Garrus growls at the reminder that he'll need to lower himself to acting like an animal. He wants to promise that he can fight whatever urges he may get, knows his will is strong, but there's still a what if.

What if he can't, and he puts Jai in danger from himself?

Sighing, Garrus glances Nihlus' way, narrowing his eyes at the man. "Only when I have to. I won't act like I'm looking forward to it." He starts to untie the sheets from his arms, but stops at the doorway of the bathroom. "And  _I_ get to choose how I do it."

"We'll see."

He doesn't wait to hear if Nihlus has anything more to say, letting the door close on the conversation. Garrus growls and rips the sheet a bit as he forcefully pulls it off of himself, tossing it away. The damn thing is his death shroud, his spirit dead and mutant body only carrying on out of stubborn stupidity.

The mirror seems to burn him as he passes it, not daring to look at his reflection as he shoves open the shower and steps in. He knows the water will be freezing and laced with the rusty filth of the pipes the moment he turns it on, but he doesn't care. If anything, the sting of the cold makes him know he's alive.

Pathetically and horribly alive.

Garrus can't take it, no longer feels it worth it to fight. He presses his forehead to the tile of the shower and keens of his pain. His body no longer screams from being unnaturally changed, but he's still in agony, suffering a wound that will never heal. He's a monster, no longer turian, and no manner of clothing or armor will hide what he is, how he looks.

_What am I? Why? Why?_

_Why?_

_Why …._

A snarl rips through his body as he slams a fist into the wall, denting and cracking the tiles. It doesn't relieve the pain, but the crackling sound reminds him of the reason he made Jai leave her apartment in the first place. He can't destroy this place too, not when it isn't even her fault.

_Jai …._

He brought her into this and she must see nothing but a monster when she looks at him, a freak that has no right to exist. She never asked for him to bring what he now is into her life, but here he is even now trying to use her to regain a sense of control. He has nothing, no one, but he still manages to think of this woman who barely knows him and what her opinion of him must be.

Collapsing to the ground of the shower, Garrus buries his head in his hands and bites down his scream, emitting a piercing keen of hopelessness.


	9. Blood

Jai bites the inside of her cheek to keep from showing any sign that she heard the agonized sound from the bathroom even from where she is at the breakfast bar digging through her medical duffle. She doesn't want the Spectre - whose name she still doesn't know - to see her react in any way to Archangel's obvious distress. He's used her against Garrus more than once already and she doesn't want to give him even more ammunition while Garrus is in such a horrible state.

Jimmu bolts to his feet at another pained howl, ears perked and back straight as he stares at the bathroom door, and Jai clicks her tongue to get his attention on her instead. His ears twitch for a moment at her sound before he finally looks away from the door across the way and up at her. She feels like she can see a feeling of concern on his eyes, but she doesn't know if it's for Garrus or the situation. She knows he's wary of the giant turian that transformed in her bed and nearly tore down their apartment, but she also can't help but to want him to share her worry for Garrus.

After seeing the distant and defeated look in his eyes, Jai wishes she'll be able to find a way to help Garrus in the same way he helped her when she had an episode, in the way he helps the station as Archangel.

A burning fills her eyes and she clenches her eyes, hearing the sound of Archangel multiply and take shape as those of different people, of her nightmares. She's heard pain throughout her life, seen people despair and souls shatter, and she can't let it happen now. She failed her family on Mindor, failed her squad on Torfan, but she can't fail Garrus. If Garrus falls, Archangel follows and Omega will be left darker than she's ever seen it, knowing hope only to have it stolen away.

She hears a whine and feels an insistent nudging at her leg, the sensations urging her attention back from the edge. She exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding and looks down to Jimmu at her side, offering a weak smile of assurance. The sounds coming from the bathroom still break through the white noise of the shower spout and pouring water, but the sight of the Spectre walking a few paces at the foot of the slight rise to the bedroom stops her from making a move towards the bathroom.

The Spectre is sore, she can tell. He walks with a slight hitch to his breathing and rolls his head almost constantly, mandibles tightly clenched to his jaw. Part of her relishes the fact that Garrus threw the Spectre around like he was nothing, but another -  _bigger_  - part of her feels bad, doesn't want him to be hurting despite his every intention to try and find a reason to draw a weapon on Garrus in the blink of an eye.

"You're hurt," Jai says, getting his attention as she searches through her bag and finds a cooling pack. "This will take a bit to cool down, but it'll help." She walks to the sink with the long slab of jelly-like substance, twists open a cap on one end of the pouch, and pours some water into it. Almost immediately, the chemical reaction between the substance and water starts to cool the pack as she works it between her hands on her way to the Spectre.

"You'll need to take off your armor so I can get to any injuries," Jai says with a look over his body, then smiles softly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything but examine you."

The turian stares at her, making a considering hum before he exhales through his nose, mandibles twitching once. "Fine, but only my torso. My arms and legs are fine," he says as he starts to unstrap his heavy, black armor.

Jai huffs a sigh and sets the pack on the table beside the couch. "You know, I get that you're kinda outnumbered here, but you were the one who ran in guns blazing." She offers a hand to take a piece of his armor and set it aside, surprised that he gives it to her after only a few moments hesitation. "It'd be stupid of Ga- Archangel to do anything to you when you're the one who will help him get revenge for what's happened. And besides," she adds, shrugging as she sets a piece of the Spectre's fancy chestplate on the ground and out of their way, "If anyone should be reluctant to want to trust you, it should be me after you pointed a gun in my face multiple times already."

"Why do you trust him so easily?" The Spectre rumbles as he watches Jai when she steps back and opens her omni-tool in search for her scanning program. "How do you know Archangel?"

"I don't," she admits, swallowing when the man raises a brow plate. "Look, I just know. Archangel is something special on Omega and he isn't one to stab you in the back." When she sees the skepticism plain in the man's green eyes, she clenches her jaw as she focuses on the readings of the Spectre's internal structures in search of damage. "You don't understand because you haven't been here as long as I have. He's helping people, fighting those who use the lawlessness to take advantage of innocent people. That doesn't just change because you say it will-"

"Because  _he_ has, you mean?"

Jai glares up at him. "He isn't any different." She purses her lips when he scoffs and jabs a finger at a spot where her tool reads a slight fracturing in his ribs, making him hiss and choke on the sound. "Even if he looks different, if there are some things different about him,  _he_ hasn't changed. I just know it."

The man makes a dismissive hum, clearly unconvinced. She knows she's crazy for blindly trusting in the mere rumors of what and who Archangel is, but she can't help the slight force in which she gives the Spectre the ice pack as she turns away from the truth. She really doesn't know Garrus beyond their  _one_ meeting out on the streets and the time he helped her during a breakdown. His time as a patient isn't reliable to determine his character because she knows pain can distort personalities, pain medications even more so.

"You don't know," she says as she walks to the medical duffle, searching for some mild pain relievers for him to take. "Archangel means something here, gives people hope. Besides that, though, I met him once before and … and he helped me." She frowns and stops in her search, staring down at her hands in the bag. "He helped me in a way no one else has before. I don't have any logical reason so, but I trust that he's different from what you think he'll be like. I have to believe that because, right now," she says, furrowing her brows and looking up to the Spectre, "Right now, he's not some killer like you're expecting. He's a guy that feels hopeless, like the universe is just here to see him fail."

The Spectre doesn't respond at first, watching her as she finds the bottle of painkillers and pops off the top. Setting the bottle on the counter, she fetches a glass and fills it with some water, finally hearing him let out a long breath.

"Alright," he says, coming to the breakfast bar and taking a seat on one of the stools there, holding the pack to his left side at the point where she found his ribs broken. "Alright, you're right. He hasn't done anything,  _but_ ," he adds, giving her a pointed look, "I won't let him make a mistake. If I see him going down that path, I'll end it before someone gets hurt."

Jai sighs and slides over the glass across the counter, then shaking out two pills from the bottle and into his palm. "Just don't be so trigger happy. You telling him he's going to kill someone before he even shows any signs isn't going to help him think he doesn't  _have to_  kill." Watching him down the pills, she chews on the corner of her lip. "My name's Jai, by the way."

The Spectre hums curiously and quirks a brow plate as he sets down the empty glass. "So we're on a first name basis?"

Shrugging, she offers a smile. "Might as well be friendly if we're going to be working together."

"Working?" His mandibles snap to his jaw and he shakes his head. "No. No, you're not 'working' with us. Him, I can see because he's got the strength to take on a Nocturni, but you? You're just a doctor-"

"Cut it," she snaps, putting both hands on the counter. "First, I'm not  _just_ a doctor. I was Alliance, so I know how to fight. Second, I'm the one helping keep him sane while you're probably going to keep kicking him while he's down. Biggest thing? Where do you think you'll get blood for him if I don't help? You're so riled up about him turning into some bloodthirsty monster, but you're not offering another way." She scowls and jabs a finger in his direction. "You're setting him up for failure while I'm looking for a way to make him feel normal!"

Staring into the man's eyes, Jai closes her hand into a fist and drops it to the counter. "Look," she says, taking a deep breath, "You're going to be fighting, right? Well, odds are you'll need a patching up here and there. Archangel needs someone who understands what he's going through and I'm going to do my best because you sure as hell won't, so that means I'm going to be helping him with whatever he needs. That brings us together, whether you like it or not, so, yeah, we're 'working together.' I don't need to be holding a weapon to be valuable to you."

She and the Spectre's gazes hold one another for a long time before she sees his mandibles relax just a fraction. His breath comes out with a rumbling thrum as he nods softly. "Nihlus."

Jai lets out a soft breath, happy that he at least gave some name. She knows it could be fake just as much as it could be real, figuring Spectres important enough to use aliases in their work after all she's heard about them. It could just be vids, though, but she won't question the truthfulness of the offered name at least this soon. This 'Nihlus' deserves enough trust for her not to question his obvious attempt to calm the situation.

"Okay, Nihlus," she says, relaxing as she looks towards the door leading to the bathroom and still running shower. "I don't know what he wants us to call him besides Archangel." A glance to Nihlus shows doubt in his eyes, but he doesn't push. She takes it as a step forward as she nods once before dropping her eyes to Jimmu sitting besides the breakfast bar. "I know I probably already said it, but his name is Jimmu."

"You did," Nihlus says, rumbling as he glances down to Jimmu. His eyes flick to Jai without him lifting his head and he flicks a mandible. "There's still one very important thing we need to talk about with Archangel, even if neither of you want to believe it."

Jai chews on her lip as her eyes drift down to the medical supplies spread out across the counter. Even as she stands here now, reality is still trying to piece itself back together. So much of it all sounds completely insane and impossible, but she keeps getting reminded that she's already seen so much that shouldn't have happened with every breath she takes.

She saw a turian man's body shift and take a new shape in a way that shouldn't be physically possible. Whatever a Nocturni was, whatever of what Nihlus said that's true, she knows that she sees an entirely new kind of turian with Archangel's face. He still seems like Archangel, but, then again, she doesn't really have much to go on. All she knows is that he didn't outright kill Nihlus despite him barging in with guns drawn, and Archangel actually listened when she tried to calm the situation, so she has no reason to think his personality has changed.

Then there's the issue with his blood back at the clinic. Nihlus says it has to do with whatever caused Archangel to change, that it makes his body need  _real_ blood instead of synthetic, and that it ultimately leads to Archangel needing to drink blood.  _That_  sounded awfully fantastic, too unreal to be coming from a grown, seemingly intelligent turian, but Nihlus was so  _sure,_  so determined to stop Archangel from going into some kind of uncontrollable mental state to kill people because of their blood.

Perhaps the rejection of synthetic blood, caused by whatever has gotten into Archangel's system and is under Mordin's investigation, causes a deficiency. Archangel lost so much blood from his injuries and even if they seem completely healed, but his body may still be lacking. That lack may have caused the unnatural craving for blood, so maybe a transfusion will help and clear up the entire problem.

_But what if Nihlus_ _**is** _ _right?_

"Nihlus," she says, drumming her fingers on the counter's edge as she looks up to him. "Turians usually prefer raw to rare food when it's safe to get it, right?"

Nihlus rumbles in confusion and nods slightly, his words measured when he responds, "Yes, if it's possible. Usually on colonies or Palaven where meat doesn't need to be frozen for long distance travel."

The fact that he doesn't immediately question gives her some confidence as she exhales a steady breath and motions towards the bathroom with her chin. "What if this whole blood drinking thing is really just in their head? What if it comes from that idea of eating raw meat? That and the ailment Mordin's trying to treat might be making them have a kind of psychosis, making them think they are … I don't know," she says, clearing her throat as she blushes a bit in embarrassment over the idea on her mind, "Makes them think they're vampires."

Nihlus huffs and tilts is mandibles, leaning his free elbow on the counter. "Jai, I know what that is and the lore. Trust me, I've looked at these myths and tried to find connections. But this  _isn't_ a superstitious myth about blood drinking, flying monsters. Don't ask me the specifics because science can't completely explain it all, but he  _needs_ to drink. If we were on a planet, it'd be simpler because we could try what you're thinking, but we can't do that. There are no farms on Omega, no slaughterhouses to get him animal blood from." He growls and pulls his mandibles tight as he gazes at his talons on the smooth counter. "I don't even know if that works, though. I can't explain the why or how it even works, but I can't stress enough the importance of making him feed before the craving gets strong enough to influence his thinking."

"You have to think about what you're saying," she says, leaning on her hands. "Drinking blood? That's just … insane. It's not …" She steps back and throws up her hands,knowing she's not putting it right even as she says, "It's not  _human_! Turian, I know, but you get what I mean. It's not  _real_."

"It's real," Nihlus says, his eyes flicking over her before he turns his gaze to the bathroom. "It's going to be hard enough to convince him … now you too …."

Jai frowns, swallowing over the fact that her disbelief could only work against them. Glancing down and over the supplies, her eyes land on a IV kit. "And he has to eat it? Transfusion doesn't work?"

"It's never worked before," he says with a low hum. "What are you thinking?"

"Dextro meats are usually blue or purple, right? The blood of your animals is blue like yours?" She lifts her head and bites her lip when he nods, drumming her fingers to build up the courage in her idea. "What if …" she starts, standing up and grabbing the empty bag for an IV, "What if we took some of your blood and mixed it with some food? I'm sure we can find someone who delivers  _something_ we can use to make it look and feel more like real food." Her brows lift in an added idea. "What about like a soup?"

"A soup," he repeats and she cringes at the picture of a blood soup.

"Yeah … I'm just trying to think of something to look less like a bag of blood," she looks at him, hopeful as she asks, "Will you donate some blood? At least for right now? I mean, you  _did_ say we need to do this, so why not sooner rather than later? This way you guys can get him some gear once we have some kind of control over the situation."

She watches his features for any kind of sign towards his agreement, hands holding the supplies for the blood draw. It's a long moment before he glances towards the noises of the bathroom and sighs, shifting his stool closer to the breakfast bar. He doesn't need to speak his agreement before she grins and rushes around the counter.

"Thank you, Nihlus," She says softly as she puts the supplies on the counter before them and lays a hand on his shoulder. "I'll only take a single transfusion amount. It'll keep you on your feet and buy us some time to come up with a stable plan." Reaching over the counter for some alcohol swabs, she smiles at him. "Once I call the clinic, we should be getting enough there that we won't need to do this." She offers her hand and smiles wider when he lays his forearm in her reach to be sanitized and prepped. "And Mordin will find a cure for him in no time."

"Just … Just worry about the blood first."

* * *

"You want me to eat this," Garrus states flatly, his gizzard flipping at the thought of just what sits on the counter before him.

Unassuming at first, the bowl before him looked almost like a thick stew, but he knew better. He knew it wasn't what it seemed the second he stepped out of the bathroom.

He shouldn't have picked up on the scent of blood as soon as the door opened, the sudden craving that filled his body sharp and burning. His mouth began to immediately salivate and he had to bite his tongue to keep from growling in interest, mortification flooding his veins as his mind battled with itself. The sight of slices of xemna nestled in a bowl of thick, cobalt liquid disgusted him, but the lingering taste of the fresh blood danced on his tongue and teases his desire.

"I know, it looks bad." Jai comes to his side, a sad, apologetic smile on her face. "I tried to-"

Rumbling in reassurance, Garrus lays a hand on her shoulder and ducks his head in thanks. It's not her fault he has become some blood crazed beast and it isn't fair to point out the obviousness she could hide despite her best efforts.

He was going to eat Nihlus' blood and  _enjoy_ it.

"It'll probably be better to eat it now while it's still disgusting to you," Nihlus says, downing the rest of a protein bar and snapping his armor back into place. The fact that Nihlus is eating on something so unassuming while Garrus struggles feels like a slap, but he can't get angry when Nihlus is only eating because Jai took blood from him for Garrus' unfortunate benefit. "Take it as a good sign."

"It's …."  _Not disgusting_ , Garrus thinks, but he can't say it. He knows admitting it will just be one more step into madness, towards proving Nihlus right.

Garrus is a monster, a feral beast no matter how much he wants to tell himself otherwise. So long as that scent of blood sends a electric heat through his body that licks at his empty stomach, he will be nothing but that monster.

An Umbrus Nocturni.

Growling, Garrus balls his other hand into a fist and pulls his mandibles to his jaw. "Just … just don't watch while I do this."

He doesn't want Jai to see him drop down to the level of a mindless animal and he rumbles in thanks when she nods, though a frown deepens the lines across her forehead. She grabs his hand as he removes it from her shoulder in both of her white ones and squeezes it once before letting him go. It isn't much, but the slight comfort it gives helps cool some of the shame, if only to lend to more as he's reminded of the burdens he's brought on this woman.

Watching her as she picks up Jimmu and walks up the bedroom steps in a gesture to give as much privacy as she can in this small apartment, Garrus flicks his mandibles weakly. He can't begin to explain to her his emotions over her involvement. He regrets bringing her into this, but he also feels like he needs her to be here, to have someone who's so selflessly helping him even after what he's done. Jai has set aside everything without ever agreeing to be a part of Garrus' new horrible existence and has taken to being there for him instead of showing him any sign of anger like she was a willing participant all along. When he looks at her, he thinks he sees a truth in her offered strength instead of her turning away from the monster he now is.

Sitting down with his back to the others, Garrus stares at the bowl of food before him. He doesn't know how he should feel about her stepping forward and thinking of a way to try and make this seem normal, but he's grateful. Even he wouldn't have thought of catering to this unnatural appetite and had every intention of ignoring any kind of hunger pains, but she has once again done something for him without seeming to want something in return.

He picks up a slice of the xemna with his talons and sets it on his tongue, fearing that, by some twist of horrible fate, he wouldn't like the taste anymore. The taste, however, hasn't changed for him. It still has the flavor of any normal order of sliced, cooked xemna he'd get anywhere on Omega, slightly peppered from wherever she bought it from, but a new flavor coats his senses as he closes his mouth around it. It's a taste that makes his blood run cold in shame as he closes his eyes.

He can taste the metallic spice of blood dancing across his taste buds, coating his tongue as he curls it around the slice of meat and lifts his head up to let it slide down his throat. As if he's been starved, that first single bite wakes up the roar of his hunger as he chokes on a soft, distressed trill. He craves more of that taste, of what he  _knows_ isn't any kind of xemna or seasoning in existence.

Opening his eyes, he stares at the bowl as he takes it in his hands. He can feel the saliva wetting his mouth, the way his stomach burns for more, and he pulls his mandibles tight in shame as he lifts the bowl to his mouth. He keens once in regret, in lament over this horrendous direction in his life, before setting the lip of the bowl to his mouth and tilting it and his head back.

He clenches his eyes tightly against the thrill of the blood as it slicks along the insides of his mouth, soaking into his gums as he drinks it down. Fighting not to choke on his distressing, sobbing vocals, Garrus swallows the last of the blood from the bowl and rolls his tongue around his mouth, collecting all traces of it. He growls as he tosses the bowl away in disgust, hearing it bounce off the wall of the kitchenette.

Burying his head in his hands, he keens and fights to keep his stomach from tossing up everything. He knows he can't take it if he has to  _feed_  again, despite how much his baser instincts loved it.

"Hey, hey," a soft voice urges, hands clasping around his wrists. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

"I can't," he whispers, barely loud enough for his own ears above his distraught vocals. "I can't do this …."

"Sure you can." Jai's soft, human hands slide beneath his own and cup his face, forcing him to drop his hands from his face, but he doesn't look up. "Just take it one day at a time …. I'll help you. And Mordin will fix this …. It won't be forever."

His scoff is harsh, but he lets her hold his head to her chest. She's warm against him and her scent is soft, sweet. "You're too optimistic …."

"Someone has to be."

He rumbles, trying to focus on the steady beat of her alien heart despite the pang of guilt reminding him of what he just did and the irony of blood pumping through her body soothing him. He doesn't feel an urge or any other disgusting, animalistic hunger towards her or the sound, so he lets himself lay his hands on her back and try and use her to calm the rest of his raging emotions. It's selfish of him, he knows, but he has no one else to look to. He was alone when he came to Omega and he's made even more so now that he's been cursed, but he has Jai, for however long and in whatever way she'll let him lean on her.


	10. Armor, Anchor, Lead, and Stone

Over time on Omega, Archangel had accumulated plenty of pieces of valuable information, known supporters, and resources, much of which Garrus had left mostly untouched for fear of possible betrayal. Involving too many people - too many unknowns - only opens himself to the whims of whoever may deem themselves and their own matters more important than keeping the anonymity of the only one trying to make Omega safe for them. His men had no qualms about putting that trust in the unknown, in faith, but now he too finds himself in need of these connections, of the favors to Archangel to pay out.

It's not like his new body lends to convenience in getting new clothes and armor. No turian can be born with the monstrous body he has, but there has to be someone - if not many - that are supplying Cydian and the other Nocturni with these essential items. It might take Garrus digging into the untouched credits he's accumulated over his time on the station - and perhaps a few unfortunate favors - but he knows he can find someone interested enough to go against the norm of typical turian gear and not ask too many questions.

Credits always have a way of piquing curiosity.

Digging into the information accumulated by himself and his team on potential allies - to an extent - Garrus finds an armorer that might be fit for the task. It's a quarian man, older than he'd have expected for a quarian so far from the Flotilla, but word is that he's one of the best armorers for anyone working freelance. Garrus had a good feeling he wouldn't need to worry about dealing with the major merc groups with the quarian's reputation of being solely sought after through word of mouth. There aren't too many people in that exclusive group and who would give out such valuable information to the  _mercs_ , of all people. That, and he's pretty sure the man doesn't have a factory of sorts to manufacture the amount of quality armor the major players of Omega require. If he remembers right, Melenis had the man make her current set of armor and she's recommended him highly multiple times.

Jai didn't seem too bothered with Garrus' request that she stay at the hidden apartment while he went in search of the quarian armorer, Rael Jou'ah. If anything, she seemed relieved to be able to have the time to herself to think about the sudden and drastic change to her life. She also seemed interested in having the chance to unpack her things and try to make the place more hers than a simple hideout. She would need supplies to stock things like food and the minor effects she wasn't able to pack in her single duffel, but she agreed to leave that until he returned instead of endangering herself by having deliveries brought while she was alone. Perhaps everything will help her calm her obvious nerves and discomfort, despite what seemed to be her best efforts to hide that underlying discomfort Garrus could see in her posture once she wasn't worrying about him getting clean and eating.

Leaving Nihlus alone with Jai was  _not_ an option and Garrus wouldn't accept any protests from the other male. In  _no_  way would Garrus trust Nihlus after he turned a weapon on her twice already.

Whether Nihlus wanted to or not, he's coming with Garrus. This way, they can keep an eye on each other without Jai playing referee.

The only good thing about Garrus' massive, abnormal size, he realizes, is how easily it seems he can make his way through the crowds. He can feel the slight tightness in his chest from fear of being gawked at loosen when he still feels people bump into and push into him. The weight of disgust seems to stop at him - at least for now - as people don't give him but a passing glance. Not even his attire - if it could be called that - made of a sheet still stained in places from the fluid left on his body after his … mutation brought that many stares. Knowing Omega, he probably hasn't been the first person to walk the streets in nothing but a single sheet draped over them.

The district Rael has set up his shop stinks, like burning rubber and something gone sour. The scent stings Garrus' nose and he even sees Nihlus out of the corner of his eye wave his hand before his nose. It obviously doesn't help as he gives up on the gesture and pulls his mandibles in against his jaw tightly. The district also darkens with each step further down the cramped streets and it's now that he starts to feel the weight of stares, of prying eyes he can't find the source of. It makes his plates itch, his heart speeding up at the thought of being inspected so intensely.

That few moments of feeling like he was just another of the crowd have fled quickly, leaving him with the nagging voice calling out all his deformities.

"Hey." Nihlus' voice rings out across the roaring in Garrus' ears. "Isn't this the place?"

Garrus mandibles flick a few times as he tries to overcome the distraction in his mind and looks at their surroundings, recounting the landmarks Melenis had given him. Humming, he finds at least the majority of them, from the neighboring businesses that actually advertise, to damage in the buildings. He can't follow the graffiti, knowing that it changes almost hourly and there is no guarantee the same swatters remain from her time passing by, but there's enough recognition for him to be confident they're in the right place.

"Yeah," Garrus says, looking for a collapsed doorway half a block from a sign for a batarian surgeon -  _butcher is more likely_  - and jerks his chin towards an alley just across the street. "This way."

Nihlus rumbles and motions with a hand to lead the way, moving to Garrus' side as they step over the unknown rubble in the street. Trash blocks enough of the alleyway entrance that Garrus' large size makes it hard for them to pass side by side, so Nihlus holds back. Garrus sees the man look up and down the street for any passersby before turning back around and rejoining Garrus. The alley opens up again, but the stench is much stronger than the street, the tighter area seeming to condense the sickening smell.

Garrus flexes his nose a few times in disgust, but pushes forward towards a large, corrugated metal door built into the wall a few meters ahead. He glances back at Nihlus and motions his head towards it, letting the other male know that's their destination. According to Melenis, Rael's shop is located behind that metal door and all they needed to do was knock in the pattern she once told the team.

Garrus hopes he remembers correctly. If not, then they won't be meeting up with the armorer anytime soon. Rael is known to bunker down whenever someone who doesn't know the exact code shows up at his shop. He's paranoid, according to rumor, and he seems to thing just about anyone could come around trying to rob - or worse, kill - him.

Stepping to the center of the metal door, Garrus flexes his hand at his side a few times as he tries to remember. He hums the pattern to himself, trying to see if he can match his memory and see if it stands out and sounds familiar. It's when Nihlus tilts his head to look up at him, rumbling in question with a cocked brow plate that Garrus sighs and flicks his mandibles.

He either knows it or he doesn't. No use delaying.

Garrus reaches up to the shaky looking door, balling his hand into a fist, and begins to knock. "Tap, tap, tap … Ta-ta-tap …." He steps back in case the door swings outward and lets out a buzz of wary anticipation.

He can see Nihlus open his mouth to speak in his peripheral just as the sound of grinding comes from behind the door. Nihlus' mouth slowly closes as Garrus shares a look with him, both unsure of what they'll see behind the door - and if they've made a huge mistake. Shuddering, the metal door begins to rise, sticking slightly about a foot from the ground before something seems to snap, releasing whatever hold on the door. Garrus and Nihlus both take another step back for fear of the shaky thing falling off its hinges, but they see a figure's leg begin to appear from the darkness of the room beyond.

"What do you want?" a raspy, modulated voice calls just as the door lifts high enough to reveal an old, battered shotgun in a tall quarian's hands. The man wears a suit that looks made from a mismatch of specialty armor on top of his living suit, his broad form holding the weight with ease as if he's gotten especially used to it. This must be Rael and, if his looks mean anything, he's spent a long time growing accustomed to the harshness of Omega. He isn't subtle at sizing Garrus up, his eyes flicking over every inch from behind his yellowed faceplate. "You're a big  _bosht_ , aren't you?" He glances at Nihlus before looking back to Garrus, the obvious threat. "Don't matter, I guess. I've had a few of you in here …."

Garrus hums and ducks his head just a fraction, but he knows full well that it doesn't hide a damn thing at his height. Swallowing, he pulls his mandibles to his jaw and reminds himself why he's here.

He needs armor if he's going to find and kill Cydian and every last one of her 'children.'

Rumbling in attempt to seem less threatening, Garrus nods once. "I hear you can make some impressive armor." His mandibles flutter as he huffs a derisive laugh and motions himself. "Think you can come up with something for me?"

Rael lowers his weapon slightly, shifting left, then right as he looks Garrus up and down. "Yeah … I can." He looks around behind Garrus and Nihlus before stepping back and jerks his chin towards the inside of his shop. "Come in and I'll scan you."

Garrus nods, more to himself than the man who has now turned his back on them, and follows into what looks like a garage of sorts. A giant machine made for manufacturing the armor takes up the entire left wall, leaving the rest of the place room for fitting, designing, and finishing the customized armor. Rael points to a large, cleared away area on the floor and Garrus moves to it, standing directly within it as Nihlus enters enough for Rael to close the doors, but not near enough to get in the way.

"Alright, take off that damn thing," Rael says as he drops his shotgun on a workbench and grabbed a handheld scanner. "And hold your arms out far enough from your body that I can get a good scan of everything."

"How long will this take?" Nihlus asks, scanning the shop and crossing his arms.

"Scanning'll be done before you can ask me that again." Rael gives Nihlus a pointed look of impatience and Garrus can't help the amused rumble from leaving his throat. He won't apologize, though, because it's the first real time he's felt normal enough to forget for a moment the situation he's in.

Nihlus hums and shakes his head, but Garrus is the only one to see, Rael already turned away to hurry Garrus along with undressing by waving his hand impatiently. "You know I don't mean  _scanning_ ," Nihlus says, flicking a mandible in frustration as Garrus stands still, arms lifted for the scanning to begin. "I want to know how long the entire manufacturing process is going to take."

"Depends."

"On?" Nihlus steps closer, sidestepping around Garrus to catch the quarian's attention.

"Credits," Rael responds, not looking up from the screen of his device as he begins to slowly circle Garrus. "The more you're willing to pay, the faster I'll go."

 _Of course_  ….  _It's always about credits here …._

Huffing in obvious annoyance, Nihlus turns away and starts to pace the garage, slowing looking over its contents. "Alright, say we pay …. Then how long?"

Rael's hand pauses above the scanner as he seems to contemplate. "... About a week, week and a half-"

"What?" Both Garrus and Nihlus speak at the same time, shock filling their vocals as they stare at the man wide eyed.

"You said you've seen people like …" Garrus starts, mandibles snapping to his mouth as he rumbles in slight distress, "like me …. Certainly you have schematics already made for my body type."

"Of course I  _did_ ," Rael says, scoffing as he moves away, setting his scanner on a workbench with an attached terminal. "But the damn things were stolen …." His next words are too soft to be translated, but the inflection makes Garrus think the man's cursing whoever did it. Stopping, Rael turns to them as Garrus grabs for his only clothes and starts rewrapping it around his body. "But you could get it for me. Do that and I can speed the process up, get your armor out by tomorrow, late tonight if you're lucky."

"Sounds like this is going to be more than just roughing someone up or intimidating them into returning your designs." Nihlus moves past Garrus and closer to Rael, buzzing subvocally with suspicion.

"And you're right," Rael says, turning around and leaning a hip against the workbench, arms crossed. "Ones who stole it are a pair of krogan brothers. Used to work for me transporting raw materials here from the docks."

"As if one krogan isn't bad enough," Garrus sighs, shaking his head softly at his continued horrible circumstances.

Rael snorts. "Big guy like you? And a well equipped  _bosht_  like you?" He motions Nihlus with a lift of his chin. "They should be no problem. They're drunk most the time."

Nihlus sighs and rans a hand over his crest as Garrus hums, trying to think of any way they could actually take on two krogan - even drunk ones. After a while, Nihlus takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he nods once as if to himself. "Alright … Alright, we'll do it." He motions Garrus to follow as he walks towards the garage door. "You can use one of my weapons-"

"I don't have any armor."

Nihlus looks back to Rael and nods, the quarian grunting skeptically as he opens his omni-tool to lift the door. Nihlus speaks over the noise as he says, "You know as well as I do that you can take a good beating before actually being hurt. Your encounter with Cydian should be proof enough."

"She's … I don't know. Patient zero?" Garrus flicks his mandibles and they duck under the still rising door and out into the alley. "I didn't know if I would have the same … resistance."

"Trust me, you do." Nihlus looks back into the garage. "Send us the last known location of these two."

"I'll do you one better," Rael responds, walking to just at the edge of his garage. "They drink at the local pit." Pointing down the alley towards the opposite direction they came, he continues, "The place is called 'The Piss.' It's 'bout all they really sell there, too …. But they like it. Look for the two krogan with bluish plates and green eyes. One of them's got a missing eye and his brother looks just like him - only  _with_ both eyes."

"No names?" Nihlus raises a brow plate.

"You really gonna ask them their names?" Just by the tone of his voice, Garrus can tell Rael is just as annoyed with Nihlus' question as Nihlus and Garrus are with the situation. "What does it matter? You're killin' them, not sharing drinks with them."

Garrus snorts, both amusement at the man's crass demeanor and aggravation that he has to even be  _doing_ this battling with each other. He is almost lost in disbelief, unsure if it's all delusion or a nightmare turians aren't supposed to have, but the sensation of slick grime beneath his feet tell him all too well of the reality he's in.

"Here," Nihlus says as they come out of the end of the alley and into a street slightly more populated with obvious drunks and the occasional squatter, reaching to his back and pulling off his shotgun, "Take this and see if you can use it. You might be able to fit your finger in against the trigger."

Garrus doubts it, knowing full well his fingers are much thicker now, but takes the weapon once it expands and checks the space between trigger and trigger guard. "I don't think I can fit my finger comfortably … or safely."

"Take it anyways." Nihlus holds out a hand and Garrus hands him his weapon back even after Nihlus just said he'd be using it. The other turian taps a few commands on the side of the weapon, activating a small interface that he types in some kind of number pattern - a code for something. "Should fire for you now."

_Spectre genetic locks …. Of course._

Garrus huffs a light laugh. "Yeah, good thinking. It wouldn't be very useful for me without that," he says as he takes the weapon back. "I could have still used it to bludgeon with …."

"I'd prefer if you didn't." Nihlus make a soft, light rumble and Garrus feels that perhaps the Spectre is loosening up to him. A good sign, because Garrus sure as hell hasn't gotten used to himself. "That thing costs more credits than my first apartment."

Garrus flicks his mandible in a soft sign of amusement before lifting his head and looking around the block. "Any idea which direction the … Piss is in?"

"What a name …." Nihlus hums and looks to a small group of humans and some vorcha huddled around a fire crackling within a metal crate. "Hey," he calls to them, diverting his path towards them and lifting his chin once in greeting once one of the humans looks over his shoulder at the voice, "Do you where we have to go to get to The Piss?"

"Sstupid turian-"

The human man holds up a hand to halt one of the vorcha before turning his light green eyes back to Nihlus, only after glancing to Garrus and opening his mouth slightly in shock. It hurts, Garrus won't deny, but he's grateful once the man closes his mouth and returns his attention to Nihlus.

"Uh … yeah. I know about The Piss," he says, giving Nihlus a once over. "It's down the block and to the left of that first turn. But … uh … you might not want to go there looking like  _that_." He waves a hand at Nihlus. "You look like you got some fancy armor and guns, so people will want to take them … and …." He clears his throat and jerks his chin towards Garrus, adding, "And you look like you're practically naked. People see weakness and …."

"And they'll want to take advantage," Garrus finishes, nodding in understanding. It wouldn't matter what they're wearing here on Omega, but he understands the human's concern. "Trust us, we can - well,  _he_ can take care of himself." He huffs a self-depreciating laugh. "I'm still learning, but," he says, lifting the assault rifle in his hands, "I have a nice enough weapon to pick up the slack."

Nihlus scoffs. "It's more than just  _nice_." He turns to the human. "We're looking for a pair of krogan brothers-"

"Kell and Jek?" Another of the humans blurts, eyes widening beneath clumped, shaggy hair. "Holy hell, you're not messin' around …."

"What Henry means is," the first human says, "Is that those two love to brawl. You won't have any troubles getting them to fight you, but you're going to regret it …."

"We can handle it." Although, Garrus is still hesitant despite his encouragement, but he doubts admitting that to this group will do him much good besides getting a few dismissive laughs.

Some the group give them a mix of skeptical and curious looks, but Nihlus nods, rumbling in agreement. "He's right. Don't worry about us." Reaching into a pouch on his armor, he removes chit and tosses it to the man that had given him the most information. "Not much, but enough for either a good meal or a strong drink."

"Oh, hey," the man says, shock widening his eyes. "Thanks!"

Nihlus and Garrus leave the group just as they start to argue over the credits and Garrus hums in question, looking down to Nihlus. "That was … surprising."

"What? Paying for information?" Nihlus shrugged. "You never know if you might need more … and I've found word travels fast through Omega. I know it's more so through squatters and beggars. If they find out that the  _Spectre_ is paying for information, then they are more willing to provide it when I need it."

"And if they're just out to cheat you?" Garrus raises a brow plate at the man's soft huff of amusement.

"The threat of being a Spectre on a station where the law is nonexistent to protect them tends to scare them into honesty." Nihlus shrugs, apparently ending the conversation as they come to the crossroads and both look towards the left for any indication of their destination. "That looks like the place," he says, pointing to a half lit sign showing a 'H' and double 'S' only. " _Spirits_ , I can practically smell it all the way over here."

Garrus hums in agreement, his gizzard clenching at the already heady stench of sour vomit, body odor, and cheap liquor. "Come on …. Might as well get it over with …." He takes a deep breath to calm himself and instantly regrets it, but it helps in centering himself before he shifts his grip on the weapon in his hands and looks down to Nihlus.


	11. Pump Mud Through My Veins

The older turian nods and leads the way, stepping over drunks either passed out or dead on the street as they make their way to the bar. There’s no door, just a gaping hole in the wall that leads into a collapsing store front. It’s quite obvious this place wasn’t intended on being a bar or kind of gathering place and Garrus has a big suspicion that whoever owns it didn’t necessarily spend any credits to get it. It’s much more likely that they either bullied whoever was here previously out, killed them, or just claimed a long since abandoned hovel.

It’s obvious from the second they step into The Piss that they couldn’t have possibly stood out more than if they had flashing lights mounted on their heads, screaming ‘Die for the Cause.’ While not necessarily a single species centric bar, all of the patrons give off the air of some kind of criminal or violent life, so accustomed to weapons being out in this bar that they don't even blink an eye at the assault rifle in Garrus’ hands. At least every other male or female carries notable scars and battered, sometimes haphazard armor while the rest either look ready to run a suicide charge or already have their hands halfway down someone else’s pocket. Luckily, he and Nihlus don’t attract too many eyes as they make their way to the tilting, half collapsed bar, Nihlus leaning an elbow on its dirty, scarred surface.

The bartender - if there is one - doesn’t come to them and that’s alright because Garrus doubts whatever they serve here even qualifies as anything but liquid eezo or ship fuel. Even if Nihlus says being a Nocturni saves him from most damage, Garrus doesn’t want to test and see if something promising to be as disgusting wouldn’t burn a hole right through his throat or dissolve his gizzard like acid. Instead, Garrus sets the forearm of his free hand on the bar, not leaning completely on the flimsy bar, and begins to scan the bar on both sides while Nihlus covers the view behind his back.

“You see them?” Garrus asks quietly, clenching his fist on the stained surface of the bar.

Nihlus hums, all too comfortable for being so noticeable in a clearly dangerous place. “I think I may have one. Just waiting to be sure. See if I can spot the brother.”

_ Blue plates, green eyes …. One missing an eye …. _

Garrus glances to his right and spots what looks like one of the brothers, but his plates are merely dark in the low lighting of the bar instead of the recognizable blue. His eyes are just as difficult to determine beyond dark as well, but when the krogan looks to his left, Garrus can see the scarred pucker of an empty eye healed shut. He nudges Nihlus to get his attention and jerks his head towards the krogan, rumbling in question.

“Yeah … I saw him too.” Nihlus shifts subtly and Garrus is pretty sure he’s moving to get a better angle of the bar. “Pretty hard to tell with this damn darkness.”

Garrus hums in agreement, glancing at the bar beneath him as he thinks of a way to get a good mark on  _ both  _ brothers. With his luck, the krogan they think is one of their targets might just be a coincidentally, similarly scarred krogan. He can’t find a way to get them alone, either, not without getting the entire bar worked up and wanting to beat the living  _ Spirits  _ out of the intruders. Suddenly - and annoyingly judging but just  _ what  _ he’s come up with - he thinks he knows what to do. All he hopes is that it plays out right and doesn’t get himself and Nihlus killed. 

“I got an idea,” he says, glancing over to catch Nihlus’ eyes. “You’re not going to like it.”

Nihlus sighs and drums his finger on the bar before nodding. “Let’s hear it.”

“Well,” Garrus starts, looking around their sides to see how close people are, how well they’d be heard if they talk about the low tones they’re using now. “As you know, word has a way of spreading like scale itch. So … we give reason for people to talk, for Jek and Kell to want some alone time with us, then lead them outside.”

Nihlus chuckles softly, though the sound seems forced. “Work up a pair of krogan and get them to  _ want  _ a fight. Shouldn’t be too hard. And, hey, we’re turian too.” He glances sideways at Garrus. “That helps.”

Garrus huff a laugh, weak and nervous. This idea could either lead to them getting the schematics, or it could get them both killed. “We need to make sure they have the armor designs too.”

Humming, Nihlus flicks his mandibles before turning around to face Garrus’ side. “Or … we could go a different direction, make them want to sell to us. We can see if they have the schematics with them  _ and  _ get them alone.”

“That seems a lot easier ….” Garrus flicks a weak smirk and nods once. “Alright,” he says as someone finally makes their way to them from across the bar. Shifting to stand up, he nods at the bartenders grunt and raises his voice. “Two of your strongest.”

At his side, Nihlus pulls out a credit chit from the same pouch on his armor as before while the grizzled batarian turns to the wall of dingy bottles on the shelf behind him in search of the right liquor. When the man turns around, his brow quirks at the sight of the chit and Nihlus hums in assurance of the reason. “We’re looking for some information.” He holds up a hand to halt any response as the man opens his mouth. “Nothing too big. We want armor for him,” Nihlus says, pointing a thumb in Garrus’ direction. “As you can guess, it’s not easy to find armor to fit this  _ hathoi. _ ”

Garrus’ brows twitch in surprise at the solely merc slang, but controls himself and his curiosity over what that could possibly mean about Nihlus’ history. Instead, he rumbles in agreement and nods when the batarian looks his way. “I’m willing to pay top credit for it, but it’s got to be quick. I need it as soon as possible, not some long waiting period.”

The batarin scoffs, head down as he pours some liquor into stained, foggy shot glasses. “I might know someone ….”

Nihlus hums and starts to talk credits as Garrus takes his shot, holding it up and glancing towards their suspected targets. It looks like word has already made itself across the bar, which isn’t all that surprising. Usually, when someone new and so clearly out of place walks into a shady place like this asking for something specific to a regular, it’s almost immediate that they gain everyone’s attention. Garrus just hopes the information hasn’t blurred too much due to the exchange between everyone between Nihlus and the krogan brothers.

He glances towards the bartender just in time to see the man nod towards the side before leering at Nihlus. “Looks like you’re in luck. I know a guy ….” His expression falls as he curls a lip. “Don’t fuck with him.” Jerking his head towards the door, he says, “Meet them outside.”

“Easy enough,” Nihlus responds, taking his drink and downing it with a jerk of his head. Though shocked the other turian would put whatever the hell this liquor is in his body, Garrus follows suit in order not to raise suspicion.

The alcohol does more than just burn like an open wound as it goes down. Despite taking it down so fast, he still tastes the foulness. He’s pretty sure it’d taste better if he chewed on the underwear of a human miner that hasn’t bathed in  _ weeks _ . Still he hides his disgust as he slams the glass down on the counter, following Nihlus out into the street once more.

“How can you stomach that?” He shakes his head, opening his mouth slightly to try and use the air across his tongue to get rid of the taste.

“Grew up drinking worse,” Nihlus says as he leans against a questionably weak support beam for an open store front for some junk merchant - thankfully not present at this time. “You get used to it.”

“I really hope I don’t.” Garrus walks into the storefront to seem less imposing, keeping an eye on the bar’s entrance. “I can bet you credits they aren’t coming from the main door.”

“And you’d be right. It’d be insane for them  _ to  _ come from those doors.” Nihlus hums a short tone of warning as he stands up. “Here they come. Guess the prospect of credits makes them impatient.”

Two krogan lumber towards them from a small alley between buildings down the street behind Garrus and Nihlus. It takes one look to see they’re the brothers Rael mentioned, their blue plates almost polished and green eyes a piercing shade of emerald. The smaller, yet wider, brother is missing his left eye and Garrus gets the feeling he’s going to be more trouble than his taller brother. He doesn’t quite know why he thinks that - perhaps the missing eye giving him the assumption of an old battle wound - but he knows it doesn’t really matter either way.

They’re still two  _ krogan _ and Garrus is naked save for a simple sheet.

“You the ones making armor?” Nihlus jerks his chin up go get the krogans’ attention towards himself.

“You the ones willing to pay good credits for them?” The taller krogan asks, crossing his arms as he looks Nihlus, then Garrus, up and down. “Looks like you won’t have too many choices otherwise for this  _ kirok _ .”

Garrus growls slightly at the krogan insult, but keeps control of himself, waiting for Nihlus to give the signal.

Nihlus hums and nods, as if considering. “I want to see the schematics. No way I’m paying until I get a guarantee you even have what it takes to make something he can wear.”

“Don’t think we’re smart enough to design something?” The smaller brother steps forward, raising a clenched fist, and Garrus growls louder, hefting his weapon higher in front of him but not yet ready to aim.

The taller krogan holds an arm out to push back his brother before glaring at Garrus, but he addresses Nihlus when he speaks. “Yeah, I got some damn schematics.”

“Where?” Nihlus’ question draws the krogan’s attention once more. “Or at your shop?”

“You think I’d just leave it lying around for someone to just snatch up when I’m not looking?” The krogan says, snorting dismissively. “You’re dumber than you look.”

Garrus flicks his mandible, irritated at the man’s constant talk with no actual proof. “Then show us.”

The taller brother looks between Garrus and Nihlus before giving his brother a sideways glance. The two lock gazes before the taller brother jerks his head towards the turians, to which the squant, tougher looking krogan reaches into the pocket of his padded jumpsuit. Pulling his hand back, he hands the other brother an OSD. Garrus can tell from the glimmer of the company local that this particular OSD has a built in transmitter that can project an image of unrestricted files, giving the user a kind of ‘preview’ into the OSD’s contents. It’s an expensive piece of tech, made with plenty of failsafes and restrictions, but he’s pretty sure the installed blockers don’t apply to the preview feature.

The taller krogan holds the OSD in his hands, juggling it between his fingers until he finds a switch hidden along its side and switches it. Immediately, an image of a suit of armor that looks perfect for Garrus’ body hovers about the krogan’s palm. Any kind of actual measurements or developed designs aren’t apparent in the preview, but Garrus has no doubt these are Rael’s stolen schematics. While Rael didn’t tell them what the schematics necessarily were stored in, it’s not too difficult to imagine the man using such a sophisticated and advanced piece of tech like the OSD. It’s also safe to assume neither krogan actually knows how to do more with it than access the image of the armor designs, this preview the way they plan to convince Nihlus to pay credits before disappearing from Nihlus’ following search once they never produce the armor.

“See?” The krogan clicks the OSD’s switch and jerks his chin towards Nihlus. “So you saw what we want to show you of the designs, so you buyin’ or not?”

“Actually …” Nihlus starts, slowly reaching back to the shotgun on his lower back. Garrus notices the movement and readies his own weapon, wedging his finger into the uncomfortable trigger space.

Humming harshly, Nihlus and Garrus both draw their weapons, immediately firing at the two krogan before they can realize what’s happening. The brothers don’t go down, however, and shout as the smaller brother grabs for a dumpster and yanks it in front of him for cover. His brother charges, firing with his assault rifle and sending Nihlus into the store to find cover. Garrus takes position behind a corner in the buildings and ducks as much as he can to get out of the krogan’s assumed line of sight.

Peeking out of cover, Garrus finds the one krogan turning towards Nihlus’ position as his brother fires towards Garrus’ relative position. Garrus takes the opportunity to line up his shot at the unprotected brother, but the tight trigger guard catches on his finger, making his shots go wide. He misses the krogan by a large margin, only succeeding in making his finger go numb and draw the brother’s fire.

Nihlus throws a grenade over his cover, taking the chance while the krogan on his position stumbles to move to a closer cover and begin firing. Looking back out to the second krogan, Garrus growls at the useless weapon in his hand and opens his omni-tool in hopes that he can find something useful in the tech.

It isn’t until he hears something clatter onto the ground at his feet that he realizes he’s left himself open for attack, one of the krogan tossing a grenade his way. He backtracks down the street, but isn’t fast enough to get completely out of the blast radius once it goes off. Expecting the worse, Garrus tries to block any damage to his face with the assault rifle, but he doesn’t feel quite like he imagined after so close to an explosion.

Instead of blowing him right off his feet - or taking pieces out of him - the grenade merely knocks the wind from him, making him grunt as he stumbles back a step. Stunned, he glances over his arms with a trill of surprise and finds himself unharmed despite a few new tatters and burns to his sheet. The sight sends a rush through him as he growls, balling his free hand into a fist and pulling his mandibles against his jaw in determination.

Holding the rifle to his side to keep it close, Garrus rounds the corner and straight for the krogan behind cover. He sees the krogan has come out, moving to his brother’s side to focus on Nihlus, and Garrus charges. His shoulder bashes into the krogan’s side and the krogan falls, weapon skidding across the slick floor of the alley. His brother can’t act, however, with Nihlus rising from cover enough to open fire.

The krogan at his feet tries to reach for his gun, but Garrus drops his own in lieu of wrapping his hands around the man’s head. Snarling, he sinks his talons in and lifts the man enough to headbutt him, relishing in the drastic change from the pain any normal turian would feel. As is, he barely feels it.

The krogan grabs his mandible and pulls, but Garrus ignores the slight sting, somehow feeling the joint is stronger and would need much more force to snap it out of socket. Still, he shifts his hand to dig his thumb into the krogan’s remaining eye, thrumming in satisfaction at the feeling of blood dripping down his fingers. He releases the krogan and punches him hard, hearing a snap of something in the man’s face.

The krogan roars beneath him and finally manages to pull hard enough to pop Garrus’ mandible out of the socket. Garrus snarls at the discomfort - more surprised than in pain - and swipes his talons across the krogan’s thick neck. Something in his chest howls in victory, his heart ramming against his ribs as the scent of blood coats his tongue. Growling, he shakes the krogan’s head and leans closer, taking in deep inhales of the man’s blood.

The krogan still isn’t dead so Garrus punches him again, and again … until nothing but a fleshy mass covers his hands and he’s surrounded by nothing but the bright orange of the krogan’s blood and sweet, metallic scent. His mouth waters and he’s entranced for a long moment before realization hits him hard, stealing the breath from his lungs and making his body run cold.

Stomach bucking, he feels like he’s drowning in his own saliva and jumps to his feet. He stumbles towards the wall and catches himself with both hands against the cold surface. Unable to stop that animalistic hunger from screaming to go back, to taste that blood pooling at his feet, Garrus clenches his eyes, keening in distress.

His gizzard tightens and he suddenly can’t take it. In a jerk of his body, he vomits, his stomach’s contents nothing but blood now turned black and the very few chunks of whatever meat Jai tried to disguise his meal with. He continues to empty his stomach on the floor between his feet until he’s down to painful, dry heaves. Wheezing, he stares at the wall before him, vocals droning because he knows what this means.

He’s going to need to feed again.


	12. Am I Too Far Gone For A Remedy?

Nihlus knows something is wrong the moment he sees Archangel go still over the dead krogan brother. It's only a split second before Archangel jumps to his feet, nearly tripping over the krogan between his feet as he stumbles almost drunkenly towards the wall of the alley, leaning on both hands …

And promptly vomiting the entirety of his stomach's contents all over the pile of already damp trash that's been forced against the wall by passersby.

Nihlus' nose twitches as the harsh scent of old blood and stomach acid adds itself to the usual, pungent smell of Omega's dark and dirty corners. Hearing Archangel dry heaving, vocals raspy and disjointed in upset, Nihlus collapses his shotgun and reholsters it against his lower back. He moves to his own dropped target, looking over the krogan's bullet ridden corpse.

The brother didn't take too much more damage than any regular krogan -  _less_ even than the mercs Nihlus usually deals with - but the two being brothers, in a cramped alley, and Archangel barely able to hold a weapon added to the difficulty. Add to that some grenades and Nihlus is just surprised that the Nocturni decided to take it as a  _perfect time_  to test out his new body's capabilities. He's not complaining, not when it left only the single krogan to worry about, but a bit of a heads up would have been preferable just in case Nihlus didn't throw more of his own grenades into the fight because  _those_ could definitely do some damage.

They're meant for a Nocturni's denser plates and hide, and with Archangel wearing nothing but a disgustingly stained bed sheet, it wouldn't end well. Archangel would live, Nihlus is sure, but it'd take a good amount of time for him to get back on his feet. That, and a massive amount of blood to feed on to regain strength.

Crouching down, Nihlus begins to pat down the krogan brother previously holding the OSD, checking for pockets. He first checks the compartment from which the krogan originally pulled it out, but comes up empty. A continued check still finds nothing and Nihlus starts to growl in frustration until he hears Archangel approach.

"Here," he says, holding Nihlus' assault rifle. "Check under the body."

Archangel crouches down as Nihlus shifts enough to reholster his collapsed assault rifle onto his back. The Nocturni grabs the krogan's shoulder and hip, getting a good enough hold to flip and toss the body aside and out of the way. He leaves Nihlus to check among the trash and orange krogan blood for the small OSD, standing and moving to lean back against the wall. It's obvious Archangel's gizzard is still twisting and sure to have thrown anything up had there been anything left.

Nihlus doesn't care that the other male doesn't help. He figures it's probably for the best because he has a big suspicion that it's less the kill and more the scent and sight of blood getting to Archangel. If Nihlus has learned anything about Nocturni as a whole, it's that they're more sensitive to the smells of what they see as 'prey scents,' leaving Archangel in a position of knowing what his senses are picking up on is wrong to want and that predatory urge that hasn't completely been erased in normal turians.

_Nothing like being forced to deal with his new life by being coated in the blood of a krogan he's killed with his bare hands. I just hope he sticks to his resolve, still sees being a Nocturni as a curse instead of gift._

It takes a bit, but Nihlus manages to find the OSD wedged into something slimy and clumped together from the krogan's blood. He plucks it out and uses the bottom edge of his chestplate to scrape off the pieces of unknown substance. Standing, he finishes cleaning it with his gloved palm before holding it up for Archangel to see.

"Think the blood damaged it?" Archangel asks as he approaches.

Shaking his head, Nihlus slips the OSD into a pouch on the belt on his thigh before motioning out of the alley with his hand. "These high grade OSDs usually come well equipped with physical protection as well as programming. It's dirty, but I doubt there's anything  _really_ wrong with it."

Archangel hums, looking down as the two make their way back down the district towards the quarian armorer's shop. Nihlus takes the silence and distracted Nocturni to take a good look at the massive male.

He certainly looks like any other Nocturni, with his jagged - almost unnaturally sharp - plates across his chest, back, and shoulders and even the smaller plates scattered across every turian's body have elongated, growing into spines at seem to flex easily enough not to constantly get in the way. Nihlus has never been able to see a Nocturni nude before, but he doubts Archangel looks  _more_ primal than the others - especially Cydian as the 'mother' - so being able to get a glance earlier of one as well as now under nothing but a sheet has been enlightening.

Seeing what lies beneath a Nocturni's clothes or armor gives Nihlus a sense of relief that he isn't going out and fighting them without armor of his own. He definitely wouldn't be able to cut it fighting a Nocturni nude and bare handed.

Archangel must feel Nihlus' attention because he looks up and to him, rumbling in question. He doesn't seem outright offended to catch Nihlus staring, but perhaps that has more to do with the obvious weight of exhaustion wrapped around the Nocturni.

"You okay?" Nihlus asks, humming in legitimate concern for the other male. While Archangel is a Nocturni, it's not like he should be made to suffer. Especially when he's chosen to try and fight against everything that Nihlus thinks of Nocturni, to show that he has control over his now heightened hunger. Archangel's brows lower a moment and Nihlus adds "Back there" with a tilt of his head over his shoulder.

"Back …" Archangel pauses as understanding dawns and his mandibles pull tight to his jaw. "No. Not really." He sighs and his mandibles fall slack. "It's not like I can  _do_  anything about it though."

Mulling that over as they approached the closed again workshop, Nihlus nods softly. "Yeah … Jai seems to think she can provide you with enough supplies to feed. Might have to expedite her plans though after …  _that_."

"She … told you her name?" Archangel seems stunned, even a bit confused, but cuts off any vocals beginning to take form with a snap of his mandibles to his jaw. "Okay …. Of course you'd need to know if we're working together," he says, seemingly more to himself than Nihlus, as he walks to the corrugated metal door and gives it the knocking pattern from before.

In the short silence after the knock and before the loud raising of the door, Nihlus rumbles softly. "Name's Nihlus, by the way."

"Yeah, I know," Archangel says as he looks towards Nihlus with a slight shrug. "You're a pretty recognizable Spectre." He huffs, obviously forcing a lighter tone to his voice. "But thanks for making it official."

"I take it you're not going to tell me your name beyond Archangel," Nihlus says more than asks, but he doesn't get a response as the door begins to rise with a piercing screeching. Nihlus winces and steps back just to try and put some more distance from the noise, but it doesn't help all that much.

"Well, well," the quarian armorer says, head jerking back and forth and he takes in the two turians and lowers his shotgun. "Decide saving some time wasn't worth the trouble?" He snorts, shaking his head once before stepping back and motioning Nihlus and Archangel to enter. "I don't blame you. Big and ugly as you are, I doubt you'd be takin on any krogan in  _that_."

Archangel doesn't react to the insult - even as passing as it was - and tilts his head towards Nihlus, passing on the quarian's attention to him. The man's skeptical expectation is plain even without Nihlus being able to completely see through the stained glass of the man's helmet. Nihlus flicks his mandibles, humming at the man's pushy attitude - though not too surprised after all he's seen on Omega - and reaching to the pocket on his thigh with the OSD.

"I want to make sure the deal is still on," he says, retrieving the OSD, but holding it out of the quarian man's reach. "If this is the right OSD, then you're going to have the armor done by tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah." Annoyance laces the man's tone and he snatches the OSD from Nihlus as soon as he lowers it within reach. "Got to make sure you're not conning me." He steps back into his workshop, stopping to look between Nihlus and Archangel. "Don't just stand there. I'm not leaving the damn door open, not in  _this_ district."

Nihlus nods in understanding, but doesn't respond as he follows Archangel into the cluttered, dark workshop. He steps over to a large machine that looks like it could be what manufactures the armor based off of the schematics on the OSD. He doesn't know much about armor making, but he's heard that smaller, freelance companies use setups like this. If it's fast enough to construct in hours, than it might have cost a fortune.

At least he hopes it's as good as the man's trying to make it seem.

The quarian drops his shotgun onto a workbench piled high with small parts and datapads with a loud bang, freeing his hands to move to a terminal in the corner of the shop behind the large machine Nihlus has found. Nihlus isn't all that surprised that the man would be skeptical and suspicious given the difficult odds they would have seemingly had with the krogan brothers, but he does drum his gloved talons on the machine when the man decides on more than a passing glance to check the authenticity of the OSD.

Finally, the quarian armorer huffs a disbelieving laugh as he continues to look through the contents of the OSD on his terminal. "I don't believe it …. You actually managed to get it back." He flicks off the terminal and slips the OSD into his suit before turning back to the turians, saying, "I don't know how you got it-"

"We killed the brothers," Archangel says, interrupting the man as he approaches from the other end of the small workshop. When the quarian cocks his head to the side, the Nocturni sighs and motions Nihlus with a hand. "He has really good weapons … and explosives."

Nihlus understands what Archangel is hinting at and nods. The last thing they want is to have the man spend all night questioning their methods and trying to use the possibility the krogan are alive to interfere with his job. "Lots of explosives. And they were drunk and unarmored, so it wasn't all that difficult."

The man is quiet as he looks at Nihlus, eyes narrowing as he seems to think the story over. Just as he's sure Archangel is about to speak judging from the Nocturni's soft, yet annoyed growl, the man finally nods. "Alright, fine. If you say they're dead and not a problem, then they're not a problem." He shrugs and moves towards a second workbench with some fabric folded up on top of it. "I'll hear soon enough …."

"Is there anywhere I can get an undersuit? Or a few clothes?" Archangel hums as he looks around the workshop. "It doesn't look like you make anything but the armor itself."

"And you're right," the man says with a grunt, turning to lean his hip against the workbench, crossing his arms. "I have a guy …. I can get you undersuits from the scan I took of you. Might be able to make you some clothes, but he doesn't seem like he's into all that fancy fashion shit." He shrugs and adds, "If that's what you're after, you'd have to go someplace else."

"No," Archangel says. "I just need something basic to get around in. The least conspicuous, the better actually."

Snorting, the quarian opens his omni-tool. "Then he's who you're lookin for. I'll send him a ping, but he's not one to greet you personally." The man glances at Nihlus before looking back to Archangel. "You'd have to order through my terminal … but you better not break anything."

The Nocturni flicks a mandible in slight offense, but nods. "I won't take long."

"Good," the quarian says, walking back to his terminal. "Soon as you're out of here, I'll start up the machines. They're too loud and I'm not going to be responsible for you goin deaf." He looks at Archangel over his shoulder, hands pausing about the keyboard. "Already have enough trouble gettin your armor out without complaints about the noise."

When the quarian steps aside to let Archangel search through the terminal, he comes to Nihlus. "You gonna pay for his gear? Because I need to see some kind of guarantee you're going to pay." He scoffs and crosses his arms, turning to watch Archangel's back. "He's a big  _bosht_  …. Not too many people I can sell it to when you cheat me out of my credits."

"You'll get your credits," Nihlus says and though he doesn't really  _want_ to pay for Archangel's things, pulls a credit chit from a more hidden pocket on his armor. Archangel can always pay him back later. Nihlus is pretty damn sure the Nocturni has to have some kind of stash somewhere on this damn station. "But only half right now."

"You're going to have to pay me for Teret's work too. He won't deal in person."

"Teret you're 'guy?'" Nihlus rumbles in interest, lifting a brow plate, and watches as the quarian twitches enough to glance his way before back to Archangel.

"Yeah …." The quarian crosses his arms. "I'm not sayin anything more about him. He likes his privacy."

"Fair enough," Nihlus agrees, not really caring to know much more. He isn't out to buy clothes - on  _Omega_ , of all places - and if this arrangement cuts out one more person to have to deal with, then he's fine with it.

Archangel pauses at the terminal, his shoulders hunching before shifting with a deep breath. He types in one last command before stepping back and looking to the armorer and Nihlus.

"You finally done?" The man says loudly, though it hadn't truly been all that long. When Archangel nods and lets the man get to his terminal, the quarian jabs his fingers onto the keyboard before huffing. "Alright, so get out." He doesn't look to them as he hits another command and the door begins to open with that loud squeal. "Come back tomorrow."

"How long?" Archangel shouts over the noise, his voice barely audible to Nihlus.

Nihlus doesn't hear the response, but the Nocturni must because he gives a nod and leaves the man to meet Nihlus on the way out of the workshop.

There isn't much said between the two of them as they make the long journey back to where Archangel has taken Jai. Nihlus can tell just by the look of the district and ache in his neck that it's late. He's exhausted, sore, and needs a good stress relief to wash away the entire day. He also realizes that, after all that's happened today, he hasn't taken any steps towards finding Cydian.

He's actually gotten  _further_ from his goal with this new development, this new Nocturni.

When they reach Archangel's safehouse, it's becomes immediate that there's something wrong the moment the door slides open. He doesn't immediately know what as he steps into the apartment, but he suddenly picks up the soft, gasping sounds coming from the bed.

"Jai?" Archangel nearly hisses, trilling in confused panic as he shoves Nihlus aside and moves up the steps into the bedroom.

* * *

Unpacking and getting the apartment to any sort of semblance of a new home took less time than she'd have expected. She was still riding the high of adrenaline from the entire night, no real rest since Archangel first stumbled into the clinic half dead almost an entire day before, but she could feel that energy draining by the minute.

Although she wants to wait up for the other two to get back, sure they won't be gone all night, Jai gets into something more comfortable and climbs into the bed. Jimmu is not far behind, taking full advantage of the larger bed to be choosey of his sleeping spot. He lays at the foot of her bed, attention on the door, but she can still feels his warmth against her side, so she doesn't urge him to move.

Once she lowers the lights and pulls the blankets up to her chest, her limbs fall limp on the bed with a sudden weight from the long day. She takes what must be her first deep breath of the day as she looks up at the ceiling, watching the ambient light of the apartment's appliances reflected on it. She closes her eyes in attempt to lose track of the differences of this place from  _her_ old apartment.

_This is your apartment now, Jai …._

She'd be the first to admit that her apartment was cramped and full of its fair share of maintenance problems, but it was  _hers_. She had worked hard to find and provide a home for herself and Jimmu. On Omega, that wasn't always an easy thing to do, but she stuck to it, kept focused on her goals, and worked hard at the clinic to afford that little apartment of hers. Even the furniture, sparse as it was, had come from her own credits, her hard earned money.

_And now it's gone …. I can never go back there …._

Jai's brows furrow and she exhales a heavy sigh, reminding herself she's trying to  _calm down_ , not work herself up with thinking what ifs and what could have beens. Forcing her expression to relax, she forces herself to just imagine nothing and not listen for outside noise. She notices the apartment smells nicer than her old one, but quickly squashes down that thought because it's not going to help her calm the few remaining nerves.

Instead, she focuses her thoughts on deep, calming breaths and imagining nothing but the color black behind her closed eyelids. If she doesn't let her mind wander, than she won't be stuck awake lamenting the facts of today that she will never be able to go back and change.

Part of her doesn't even  _want_ to go back and change things. She doesn't regret anything that she did today, is honored that Archangel trusted her to come for help, and she knows she wouldn't have wanted it to happen differently just to save her from the stress. The whole reason she came to Omega was to get to a life where she could bury herself in helping others because she couldn't help herself.

A sudden sound snaps her out of her forced mental concentration and she jumps, gasping lightly as her eyes open. She sits up and looks around the apartment, heart pounding for fear that someone has found her, but when she looks to Jimmu, he seems more interested in her reaction than any possible sound. His calm demeanor relaxes her enough that she lets out a deep breath she'd been holding and reaches out to pet his back.

"Okay … I'm just jumpy," she says more to herself than him as she rubs her eyes and yawns.

Then she hears it again … a murmur of sound that might as well be blared through stadium sized speakers with how it sends an icy spear through her veins because she knows  _it shouldn't be here_.

Her eyes widen at the sound of whispered groans and wordless, hushed talking. Dropping her hands to ball at the sheets, Jai looks around the apartment, heart pounding as her chest clenches. Jimmu must notice the desperate shift because she feels him shift and move to her side, shoving himself in her lap, but she can't stop staring at the walls and ceiling, entranced by the nightmarish shadows playing across the surfaces of the apartment.

"Oh God …" she whispers, throat constricting as she pants for air that won't fill her lungs.

Screams echo through the room and Jai throws her hands to her ears, eyes burning with hot tears as she pulls her knees closer. She gasps a sob as she feels an urgent nipping at her hands, followed by the rough but insistent pawing of Jimmu's feet at her arms. Shivering, Jai drops her arms and immediately wraps them around Jimmu, clinging to him to keep from drowning.

She's too weak from the day to fight the things she  _knows_ aren't there, the horrors that are just in her head and not griping at her clothes or hair, and can only hold onto Jimmu, her strength. She's losing against the demons in her mind and she clings to him, crying into his fur as she trembles and flinches from each wordless hiss or growl from the monsters in her head.

"Jai?" A panicked voice cuts through the torrent of noise and she can almost imagine some of those inner demons scampering from something new, their numbers lessening though not freeing her completely.

She feels more than hears Jimmu growl in her arms and she whimpers in shock. Jimmu has never reacted to the things she hears and sees, but if he has now ….

There's something about the soft rumbling of thunder around her that calms the storm of voices and shadows, of grasping claws and gnashing teeth. She soothes Jimmu, not wanting him to scare away that sense of comfort and control breaking through the raging thoughts. Jimmu takes a moment, but he relaxes in her arms, pressing himself into her hug.

She gasps, tensing in fear when warmth wraps itself around her, but it's different this time and that difference calms her. That comforting sound floods her mind and she can feel  _life_ around her instead of that overwhelming death. Someone guides her back down into bed, Jimmu held close and burrowed under the blankets, but she grasps at them when they try to leave her.

They may have helped fight back the horrors, but she still wants them near for when her demons return.


	13. If Your Body's Broken, Love, Your Heart Is Helpless

_They're so brutish …._

His hands are easily twice the size they were before. Where a normal turian's plates are smooth, softening to hide seamlessly, his are jagged and sharp, as if made of craggy stone.

 _Just like the rest of me_.

Sighing dejectedly, Garrus puts his head in his hands and trembles against the effort to stifle his distraught keen. How could everything change so suddenly, so  _drastically_ , and leave him with an entirely new, hellish life? How was he to know that one simple, mutated looking turian could turn him into this? Why ... why did he have to stop at the sounds of distress instead of act as any other Omega citizen would and just walk away?

And who will help him now? Who  _could_  help him? There's nothing medically wrong with him, and yet he sits here, an entirely different beast than any normal turian.

_Can I even be considered turian anymore?_

Tiny clicks across the floor pull his attention away from his own mind and he glances up, tracking the sounds through the dimly lit apartment to the tiny dog prancing into the open-air kitchen.

_Jimmu … Jai said his name is Jimmu …. He's a good … dog for her …._

Jimmu walks towards the two shallow bowls Jai had set aside for him in the kitchen and stops. Garrus watches the little dog glance between the two empty dishes as if considering them before he stops and turns his attention towards Garrus. Something in his eyes speaks of more than just a simple-minded animal and Garrus can't help his rumble in question, knowing full well the dog can't understand the context of the sound.

"What?" Garrus says in a near whisper soft enough not to wake Jai, "What do you want?"

Jimmu stares back at him, dark eyes boring into him as the little dog sits with ears perked forward. Garrus looks between the dog and the dishes, trying to understand Jimmu's silent language. There's obviously something to do with them, but Garrus can't feed him without Jai's instruction, not wanting to do something wrong and harm the Earth animal so dear to her but also not sure if Jai even  _has_ food to give.

_Definitely need to get her and him some food soon …._

Flicking his mandibles, Garrus stands and approaches Jimmu and his food dishes. He crouches down and picks up the bowl with a small amount of water pooled at the bottom. He can get Jimmu water without fearing that he'll harm the dog, he knows, and walks to the fridge, using it to dispense filtered water. It being chilled might just be an added bonus, Garrus is sure, but he knows he'd appreciate the luxury as at least something to distract from the lack of food. When he returns to Jimmu, he sets the bowl down at the dog's feet.

Jimmu stands, curled tail wagging as his feet click on the floor and he closes the gap to the water. Garrus purrs at the obvious delight from Jimmu, happy to have earned the dog's approval with this at least. Jimmu means a good deal to Jai, so if Garrus can help her through Jimmu, then he'd do whatever it takes to hopefully prevent another night like last night.

"He likes you, you know."

His mandibles flutter softly at that and looks up towards the bedroom area, unable to stop his slight smile at the sight of Jai. Her white hair is a mess and eyes still half-lidded, but she looks truly rested. If it weren't for the heartening memory in his own mind, he would have never guessed that she needed both his and Jimmu's comfort to calm down.

_At least I like to think I helped …. That I was useful even like this …._

When Jai yawns and stretches, her shirt riding up slightly, Garrus snaps his mandibles back and chuckles nervously. He has no idea what to do with her now, so relaxed, loose, and probably completely unaware of how he invaded her space ... and held her close so intimately.

Giving Jimmu a last glance, Garrus huffs weakly to try and relax. "What do you mean?" He asks as Jai climbs out of bed and shakes her hair with both hands. He can't really see a difference between before and after - except for it looking a bit more bedraggled now - but she smiles as she shuffles down the steps, so perhaps it's just a human thing.

Jai hums as she stretches her arms up again and Garrus pointedly looks away, walking back to his stool at the breakfast bar to give her room to tend to Jimmu. "He only takes food or water from people he likes." She chuckles softly and shrugs as she crouches down to pet Jimmu, rubbing his ears with her fingers. "It's an odd quirk he has, but it means he likes you a lot that I didn't even have to be here too."

She straightens up and smiles at Garrus, and he feels a bit of a weight from the morning lift from his shoulders. He chuckles and smiles back to her, rumbling softly as he watches her grab a glass to fill with water for herself. A silence falls over them as she takes a drink, walking to the counter beside him and setting it down before speaking.

"I guess we don't really have food here, huh?"

His vocals buzz and he rubs his neck. "Uh, yeah … but Nihlus said he'd bring something for you when he returns." Glancing towards Jimmu, Garrus tilts his head and adds, "I'm not sure he knows what to bring for a dog, though."

Jai chuckles and moves closer, peeking around his massive body to get a look at Jimmu sitting by his food dish. She snorts at the expectant look on his face before leaning back - and leaving an odd sense of chill against Garrus' side so close to her.

"He might be able to eat some of my breakfast depending on what Nihlus gets." She smiles, a bit of hopefullness in her eyes as she asks, "Maybe we can order some groceries to be delivered sometime today? If we're not busy, that is. If so, we can always go but some at the market …. Although I'd rather not because it gets so crowded. But if you want to-"

Rumbling in amusement at her rambling, Garrus shakes his head slightly. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out. This  _is_ you're home now until we can get rid of Cydian and make it safe for you - well, as safe as Omega can be."

She ducks her head, cheeks reddening slightly, and Garrus rumbles curiously at the reaction. He can't dwell on it as she distracts herself with taking another drink from her glass. When she sets it down, she looks around the apartment and chews on the corner of her lip.

"About last night …" she starts, frowning as she looks to him, and his heart drops into the pit of his stomach.

_I should have known she'd be upset …. A turian would be …._

_Stupid …._

"I wanted to apologize." Her words make his mandibles fall slightly in confused surprise, but she breaks eye contact, ducking her head slightly as she continues. "You shouldn't have had to comfort me - and I thank you for it … but I remember enough to put together that I made you stay with me … and I'm sorry. That was really rude to assume you'd be okay with that …. Not that I have anything against it - and that really sounds bad-"

Chuckling softly, he lays a hand on her arm and purrs in reassurance. "It's okay, Jai. Really …." He exhales heavily and forces his hand to move away from her, laying it on the counter. "And if anyone should apologize, it's me." Seeing her confusion, he looks away a moment before explaining. "I don't know how it is with humans, but turians grow up knowing that everyone has a set personal space. You just don't break that barrier unless you're close to the other person …. Like family or …." He leaves the rest unsaid, unsure if he wants to give her any hint of his opinions of her.

As he struggles for the words to dig himself out of the corner he just led himself into, Jai reaches out and lays her hand on his. He flicks his mandibles in surprise and looks into her eyes, thrumming a whisper of happiness at her slight smile.

"Let's agree to both be sorry … and unnecessary because we both …." She trails off herself and gives him a half shrug as her pale cheeks flush again.

He purrs and dares to test the waters the two seem to be treading ever so carefully, barely speaking above a whisper. "Enjoyed it?" he hedges, tilting his head as he turns his hand.

Jai blushes brighter as she slips her hand into his much larger one, fingers barely able to wrap over his first finger. "Yeah …." She squeezes his finger, glancing down to their hands. "I just wish the circumstances were better than last night."

He strokes his thumb over her hand and nods, unable to look away from her. "Yeah … but we'll find a way to make up for it."

Her smile sends a warmth he hasn't felt in a long time through his stomach and she huffs, shoulders bouncing. It's a long moment before she steps forward and wraps her arms around him, shocking him as she lays her head on his chest.

"Thank you," she says quietly, giving him a hug as best she can with his size. "Really. Thank you for being there."

Garrus thrums and lays his hands on her back, ducking his head as he closes his eyes. "Anytime, Jai. I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Where did you learn-"

The sound of the front door unlocking and opening stops her midsentence and Garrus' hands tense on her back for just a moment, unwilling to let her go. She doesn't seem in any hurry to move either and it isn't until he sees Nihlus appear in the doorway that he finally pulls away, letting Jai take a step back. It isn't lost on Garrus that though they are apart, they are still close enough to make Nihlus give him a knowing look.

"Nihlus!" Jai finally moves away, making a quick attempt to change the mood as she approaches the older turian with Jimmu close behind. "Thank you for getting something to eat."

"I figured this place wouldn't have anything," Nihlus says, never looking away from Garrus as he holds up a bag of what looks like some kind of take-out to Jai. Finally, he looks down to her and thrums warmly. "You're looking much better today."

She huffs humorously and shrugs, turning back towards the kitchen. "A good sleep can do wonders."

"It would seem so," Nihlus agrees, rumbling in question to Garrus with a raised brow plate and Garrus narrows his eyes, daring the older turian to say something.

_What are we? Two children caught kissing?_

_Wait …._

Nihlus must see something in Garrus' face as he smirks softly, buzzing in amusement. He drops the interrogation and turns his attention to Jai digging through the boxes he brought. "I didn't know what to get Jimmu. Can he eat human food or is there something specially made for dogs?"

Jai chuckles and steps back to let Nihlus sort through the food, leaving him to search the drawers of the breakfast bar for utensils. "They can eat some human food too. Most food is pretty safe to eat they don't really have a special diet. Dog food is just some types of human food processed and dried." She shrugs as she hands Nihlus a fork and holds one out for Garrus.

"I can't eat it," Garrus says, holding up a hand. "And I'm not really hungry."

Jai's mouth opens slightly as her expression drops. "I … I'm sorry. I-"

"No, it's okay, Jai." He forces himself to hum in thanks anyways to try and assuage her worries, fighting his own emotions over the fact that he'll be sitting here, unable to eat normal food, and constantly aware that he threw up his last meal all over a filthy alley. If Nihlus is right - and he's proven to be so far - then Garrus will need to … feed again soon or he may risk losing himself.

After their admissions just moments before, Garrus is willing to put his pride behind him, swallow down his disgust, and drink whatever blood they can manage in order to keep Jai safe.

_Safe from me …._

Jai chews on the corner of her lips again, setting the third, useless fork down on the counter. "Don't worry, we'll find some supplies at the clinic and I'll talk to Mordin. It might take some time to collect enough donations, but I'm sure, between Nihlus and me, we can make sure you aren't starving-"

"Jai," he says, leaning down to catch her eyes. "It's okay. We'll figure it out when we get to it."

"Crossing a river, right?" Nihlus adds, setting a box on the counter in front of Jai. "Is that the saying?"

Garrus thanks Nihlus subvocally for distracting her as she smiles weakly, opening her box. "Crossing the bridge. But that's really close."

With her eyes occupied examining her food - something that looks like a yellow puddle, only solid and with pieces of color embedded in its surface - Garrus looks to Nihlus, frowning at the older turian's knowing look. Of course, Garrus knows he'll need to feed again and he  _absolutely_ knows the horrible truth that it'll have to be one of his two companions that'll have to offer the blood. He doubts the clinic would be able to provide any blood soon, if at all. He'd be willing to pay credits to see someone agree to donate blood to an  _Omega_ doctor without some damn good payment.

Jai hums around a mouthful of her breakfast, using the free fork to spear some of it and offer the piece to Jimmu who eats it happily enough. "Thank you for the food," she says with a warm smile. "I'll pay you back for it once I get to my credit chit. Or maybe I could pay you back by buying the next meal?"

"Honestly?" Nihlus turns to Garrus. "I don't care so much about buying breakfast as I do paying for the first half of a full set of custom armor  _and_ new clothes."

Chirping in surprise at being admonished like a child, Garrus flicks his mandibles and lowers his brows in defense. "I'm sorry, I must have left my credits in my  _other_ sheet. Here, let me go get it."

Jai snickers around her food and Nihlus sighs, spearing a piece of his food as he shakes his head once. "I'm not an idiot. I know you don't have it, but I also know anyone smart would have credits stashed away. I expected you'd be one of those intelligent people."

"That's  _almost_ a compliment," Garrus says, relaxing at Nihlus' snort and amused rumble. Nodding, he looks at Jimmu eating another piece of Jai's breakfast off the floor. "And I have easily accessible credits in my old gear." At that, he catches Jai's attention and he says, "I hope it's somewhere safe? And my rifle too?"

"Of course," she answers before swallowing her food and taking a drink of her water. "Of course. Mordin has it in our locked storage." She hums and looks away, her lips twitching. "We didn't clean it off though, so it's a real mess."

Garrus huffs, rumbling softly in amusement. "Good thing it's blue, then."

She laughs and Nihlus flicks his mandibles in exasperation, giving his head a slight shake. Swallowing his last bite of food, Nihlus closes his box. "I don't suppose you know what to do with it now that you can't wear it."

"I know what needs to be done soon," Garrus says, watching as Jai gives the last of her meal to Jimmu. He waits for her attention because his idea concerns her and, when she looks up to him in curiosity, he nods. "I know you don't want to be cooped up here every day, so I was thinking of introducing you to my team." He frowns and leans forward, forearms on the breakfast bar. "I need your help though," He tells Nihlus. "I can't go to them like this, too many questions and I don't want to involve them in this."

"I look nothing like you, though." Nihlus waves his hand between the two of them. "I wouldn't even be able to pose as you, not if they've seen your face before."

"They have, but they're also used to me stopping by in armor." He shrugs. "I don't always stay with them and I tend to go on stakeout missions on my own. That means I leave my helmet on and don't always take it off if I just intend to give them orders and leave again." Leaning back, he moves his gaze to Jai and smiles. "They'll trust if I tell them that you're there to help." Huffing, he glances to Nihlus and says, "I'm the most paranoid of the bunch, so if I approve of something or someone, then they don't question it."

"I figured as much when it wasn't you that met with me at Afterlife," Nihlus says, humming in curiosity but not asking for further information. Crossing his arms, he flicks his mandibles and jerks his chin towards Garrus. "I still don't sound anything like you. I might be able to convince some of them, but anyone who can hear subvocals will pick up on the differences."

"Well …." Garrus trails off, tilting his head and chuckling softly. "I was counting on you being of a similar body type to me …. How I  _used_ to be, anyway." Tilting his head the other way, and hums in thought before nodding. "You're a bit shorter, but the armor will fit. With the common voice modulation, they won't know the difference unless you use completely different mannerisms."

"Great, because I was thinking about taking your position as Archangel," Nihlus deadpans before sighing and dropping his arms. "Fine. I'll wear your bloody armor and pretend to be you to a group of people that probably know you well enough to even know your real name."

His words make Garrus realize that he hasn't really given either of them his real name. Yesterday he told Nihlus he wouldn't share it, but perhaps he was just being harsh. The only person on this entire station that knows about Nocturni is also offering to work with him on catching the one who did this to him, so why can't he extend some goodwill and give his name? That, and he doesn't want Jai to go with the thought that Garrus doesn't trust her when she's shown him so much trust of her own.

"Garrus," he says, thrumming as Nihlus and Jai both look to him with looks of surprise. Nihlus nods softly in approval of the offer and Jai smiles softly. "My name is Garrus."

Jai chuckles, the sound airy as she circles a finger around the rim of her glass. "You told me your name at the clinic, but you were so drugged up on painkillers I didn't want to assume."

He smiles and nods, looking to Nihlus with a questioning rumble. His plan to integrate Jai into a situation where she can be protected and still do what she wants all lays on the older turian's shoulders.

Nihlus hums low in thought before leaning his hands on the counter. "Say I help you with this, she is accepted and starts to work out of your base of operations …. You're not expecting them to protect her from Cydian, are you? Because I'm certainly not going to be spending my time pretending to be you and not even able to remove my helmet."

"No," Garrus says, shaking his head as he looks to her, rumbling in reassurance. "I'll be watching from a distance. I plan to mod my rifle to ..." He stops and looks at his hands before continuing. "To fit my hands."

A small white hand lands in his and he looks up to Jai's blue eyes. "Thank you for this," she says, slipping her hand to grip his finger and squeeze softly. "You don't have to go through all this," she says before looking to Nihlus and back, "either of you …. But I really would be going stir crazy stuck in here."

"We know." Nihlus rumbles and starts collecting the empty food boxes. "It makes sense you'd want to. Just agree to let us know so we can go too …." His eyes meet Garrus' and they both hum in agreement as they look to Jai.

Her cheeks flush a bit under the two sets of eyes and chuckles, the sound slightly nervous. "Okay, guys. I promise not to sneak out late at night." She smiles when Garrus thrums approvingly and strokes her hand with his thumb. "But you know that means you'll have to know every time I take Jimmu out."

Nihlus nods in agreement, taking the trash to the disposal, and Garrus chuckles, rumbling warmly. "Deal. I could use the exercise anyway."


	14. Bad Moon Rising

"Let me get this straight," Nihlus starts as he stops just before Solus' clinic, turning to Jai and Garrus. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder before buzzing in skepticism and crossing his arms across his chest. "I'm supposed to walk in there with Jai and request your armor  _after_ pulling a weapon on your unconscious body just yesterday  _and you expect Solus to just agree_?"

"You don't have to say it  _quite_ like that." Jai rolls her eyes.

Garrus hums in discomfort as he rubs his neck, clicking his mandibles. "I can't really walk in there. I'd probably freak everyone out." He looks around the street before motioning towards a small planter long since dead and turned into nothing but dirt and trash. "I'll wait there. Gives me a view of the clinic as well as a good part of the street in each direction."

"You two are so paranoid," Jai says under her breath, but nods. "But it's settled. Garrus will wait out here while we go in and get his gear." She glances at Nihlus, adding, "You'll put on his armor while I talk to Mordin, see if he's learned anything from Garrus' blood samples he took."

Garrus trills in surprise but follows behind. "You took blood from me?"

Jai nods and slows so that she's walking with Garrus at Nihlus' back. "Yeah. We were having problems with your body rejecting blood transfusions, so we took a few samples to see why ….. Maybe he can even cure you …."

Humming, Nihlus stops suddenly and turns around to them. "You need to be prepared to hear the truth, there is no cure. There has never been a cure in millennia." At Jai's ashamed look away, he rumbles softly, shoulders loosening. "Look, Jai. I know there's nothing wrong with trying, but I can't let you give yourselves a false hope in a sudden fix that has never been found up to this point. Solus may be a great scientist, but he's an outsider to what Nocturni truly are. He wants to use science to explain something that just doesn't work logically."

"You just don't know Mordin." Lifting her chin, Jai pushes past Nihlus. "He doesn't give up and never will."

Nihlus sighs and looks aside to Garrus without completely turning towards him. "I hope you see the reality of this situation?"

Frowning, Garrus drops his mandibles as he nods. "I know …. I don't expect anything, but it makes Jai happy to hope …."

Nihlus's gaze moves over his face before he gives a soft nod and glances towards the clinic. "We'll be quick."

"Yeah …" Garrus says softly before Nihlus hears him call out again. "And don't forget my guns!"

If Nihlus had thought the clinic was busy the day before, it's absolutely  _packed_ today. People were crammed into every available inch of space and Nihlus had to shoulder his way through to get to the desk counter where he saw a glimpse of Jai's vividly white hair peeking through the bodies. His armor saves him from any force on the resulting shoves or elbows into him for the pushing, some even cursing under their breath at the solid, hard resistance.

The smell of body odor filled his nose as he passed the clinic's patients, the different species' scents combining and clogging his senses, from the more forgiving staleness of one to the stinging sourness of another. He couldn't pinpoint the sources of every vile scent he picks up, but he can take a small, yet relieving, inhale of fresher - though not by much - air once he reaches the desk Jai leans over, talking to the other human doctor in the clinic.

The male's eyes widen when they catch Nihlus and his body tenses as if ready to bolt from behind the desk, but Jai reaches out and gently grabs his wrist. Smiling, she tilts her head towards Nihlus, saying, "Don't worry, Daniel, he's good. We're actually … working together, I guess you could say."

Daniel's eyes quickly dart towards Nihlus before looking down to Jai once more and, apparently seeing trust in his eyes, she releases him with a slight nod.

"Jai, what happened?" the man immediately starts, taking a step closer and lowering his voice slightly. "What happened to 'you-know-who?'"

"He's fine." Jai stands up and motions the clinic around them. "What's with all the people? I know I'm not in, but I've never seen it this bad."

Daniel huffs weakly, the sound full of nerves, and he rubs his arm. "Yeah …. Mordin is busy with some project. I don't know what is so important about it, but it's got his full attention. I've been taking all the patients - with Ivelina's help, of course."

"Yeah … but there's never been  _this many_  people," she insists, lifting her brows slightly as she motions all of the waiting patients. "Did I miss something?"

He sighs and his shoulders droop. Glancing around for anyone possibly listening in, he leans closer to her and she follows suit. Nihlus doesn't hear what's said, but it makes her eyes widen and mouth open in shock. He has a nagging feeling in his gizzard telling him it has to have a connection to his own reason here.

_People were bound to have seen Garrus in his state yesterday …. Maybe even see Cydian attacking him in the first place …._

"Crap …." Jai takes a deep breath and crosses her arms, taking a moment to chew on her lip before she speaks again. "Well, I hate to say that I can't help either-"

" _What_?" Daniel's eyes widen, brows shooting up. "Jai, we're drowning here!" he hisses as loudly as he can without being overheard.

Jai frowns and nods. "I know … but I still have my patient-"

"Who? Arch-" He stops himself with a cough, taking a deep breath before looking Jai over, a slight frown to his face. "You're really going to abandon us for  _one_ patient? Jai …  _I_ need your help."

Nihlus can tell the plea affects her when she turns her face away, hand tightening on her arm when they're crossed. "I'm sorry, but I need to do this. I've done a lot for the clinic, so I'm doing this for me …. I'm helping him."

Daniel's expression drops, hurt flashing over his face, and Nihlus flicks his mandibles at the things said in between the lines. He wonders if Jai knows the truth of just what the man was asking, that there were deeper feelings swirling around in the air from Daniel, but it isn't in his place to point it out. Instead, he clears his throat to get both humans' attention.

"We need to get his gear."

Jai nods, still not looking to Daniel. "Yeah …. We have a locked storage room. We put it in there."

"Ivelina cleaned the blood off," Daniel nearly spits, crossing his arms as he scowls at the air just directly beside Jai's head. "Back when we  _were_ slow enough to have some time to  _breathe_."

"I said I'm sorry," Jai replies with rising annoyance, giving her own glare to the man. "I'm getting his gear and slipping in to see Mordin."

As she's walking away, Daniel says, "If he even acknowledges you."

Nihlus flicks his mandible in irritated exasperation over the man's petty huffing, shaking his head as he follows Jai towards the locked storage room. She taps the code in with the ease of familiarity and steps aside when the door slides open. The room is somewhat small with a small corner barely big enough for a human-sized cot. It's there that he finds a large duffle beside what has to be Garrus' weapons.

"You go ahead and get dressed while I check in with Mordin. And you can take the duffle for your gear too." When Nihlus looks over his shoulder to her, she smiles softly. "It's my personal one, so it's not like they'll really miss it."

"Good," Nihlus says, approaching the small personal corner as he begins removing his weapons. "I didn't want to leave my armor here …."

"Yeah," she says with a small, amused huff. "That thing probably costs more than what I can make in a year,  _easily_."

Chuckling, Nihlus nods but doesn't stop removing his gear. "You're right …. And I almost had to pay that again for Garrus' armor." At that, he stops and looks back to make sure she's watching him. "He  _is_ paying me back for that."

Jai snorts and rolls her eyes, waving her hand at him as she steps out of the room and closes the door behind her. Nihlus rumbles amusedly before shaking his head and returning to getting his armor off. Laying his weapons down in a neat line across the bed, he gives the same amount of care to his black armor, snapping open the clasps before slipping off the piece and laying it beside his weapons.

Down to just his undersuit, he opens the duffle to take a look at Garrus' Archangel gear. On the top of the stack is what looks like Garrus' undersuit, ridden with holes and stained with blood, and wrapped within is a custom and heavily modded visor based on a Kuwashii frame. He doesn't spend too much time on it, afraid of activating it and invading Garrus' privacy, but Nihlus has to admit it had to have taken some skill to make just from its looks.

_Good to know he has the skill to add to our hunt for Cydian besides his new Nocturni muscle. Perhaps the rumors of him hold some truth …. Well, at least the realistic sounding ones._

Setting the visor on the opposite side of the bed as his own gear, Nihlus finds Garrus' weapons, collapsed as they'd be when holstered to save room. Even in their current shape, he can tell the same amount of attention to detail has been given to his weapons as his visor.

Judging by the M-92 Mantis and its numerous mods - both illegal and Council sanctioned - Garrus must be a damn good sniper, or he at least knows how to mod one to draw out its best strengths. When Nihlus considers the work they'll have to go through to make Garrus' weapons able to take down a Nocturni like Nihlus' gear, he's confident it won't be as difficult as with an amateur. He may even be able to lay out the details of what'll be needed and leave Garrus to his own weapon, giving Nihlus the time to keep following leads on Cydian.

Next in Garrus' arsenal is an M-15 Vindicator and M-3 Predator, each nearly as heavily modded as his sniper rifle. Given his limited available weaponry, Garrus has done an excellent job creating weapons with the stopping power needed to hunt Nocturni with little additions for modding than the type of actual ammunition they'll be using and a power multipler to give some extra damage to accommodate.

Garrus' armor isn't much different than Nihlus would have expected given the younger turian's attention to detail and strengths. It's heavier than Nihlus' own armor despite the two being of the same class, but he didn't expect any different given that his own armor is Spectre issue and made for optimal maneuverability. While the weight isn't too big of a problem, he's glad the most he's doing in this set is playing Garrus' part in front of his team and not running around Omega, too used to the  _good stuff_  he's been wearing for so long.

Strapping the pieces on, Nihlus rumbles in amusement over the fact that the height difference Garrus had claimed there would be doesn't affect the armor too much. An expert armorer would be able to notice the size discrepancy, but he doubts Archangel's team will pick up on the slight subtleties. He just needs to pad the armor in some places to create a tight fit, so he grabs Garrus' undersuit and quickly smells it for the scent of blood. While no doubt there, it's not strong enough unless the turian team members are in his personal space, so he rips pieces off of it and packs them into the gaps in the armor to make it snug and more believable.

He gives himself a once over before turning to his own gear and begins to pack them neatly into the duffle, placing the pieces in a perfect pattern to limit jostling. Even if it can withstand a fight truly meant for a Spectre, he still cringes at the idea of them banging together with each movement of the cloth duffle. He places every weapon but his assault rifle into the duffle, knowing he can't carry the advanced weapons into Archangel's base, but not willing to go completely unarmed should they run into trouble with a Nocturni.

 _If only we'd be so lucky to have a lead on Cydian come to_ _ **us**_   _instead of vice versa._

Just as he zips up the back and moves to holstering Garrus' weapons, he hears the storage room door open and Jai calls out. "Is it safe to come in? Are you decent?"

Nihlus chuckles at the obvious humor. "I'm afraid you've missed out on seeing the prime example of turian excellence."

She scoffs loudly, coming into the room. Giving his smirk and shake of her head, she looks him over and gives a nod. "Yeah, I don't think they'd notice …. Thank god, someone cleaned the blood off," she adds with a skittish look in her eyes, obviously disturbed by the image. "Are you ready?" she finally asks and he hums, glancing back at his things.

"I assume you've made Solus aware my gear will be left here?" he asks and she nods. "You trust no one in the clinic will get  _curious_?"

"They better not," she says, heading for the door. "Patients  _never_ have access to storage and I trust everyone who does have a keycode. They might move it to free up the bed, but they won't go digging around."

Taking her word for it, Nihlus hums in approval before following her through the thick crowd of people waiting to be seen by the only doctor seeing them, the human male, Daniel. He loses Jai for a moment but joins up with her outside, both a bit jostled, but otherwise fine despite her having nothing but civvies against the crowd that's already proven to have no problem with shoving back when he shouldered through before.

Nihlus is surprised to see Solus out on the street with Garrus, a feeling shared by Jai as she calls out to the doctor and rushes over. He's close behind as she stops before the two and looks over the small bag obviously brought from the clinic.

"What's going on?" she asks, gaze shifting between Garrus and Solus.

"Interesting specimen. Show effects of infection on turian body. Needed sample in current state for ongoing experiment, to observe extent of alteration." Solus looks up to her and gives a slight smile, calming her. Continuing, Solus says, "Needed needle gauge fit for krogan, still presented with resistance. Quite interesting alteration to turian epidermis. Obtained sufficient amount notwithstanding."

"Do you think you can treat the infection … and change him back?" The hope in Jai's voice hurts Nihlus almost like a physical hit to the chest and he glances towards Garrus to see if the younger turian shares the same optimism in salvation.

Garrus breaks eye contact with him, mandibles tight to his jaw. Everything about his posture tells Nihlus that Garrus holds no faith in the idea and, sadly, Nihlus is relieved that at least one of them believes him. No one has cured Nocturni yet in the entire span of turian existence, leaving not a lot of belief that a single salarian can do what many could not.

_There's just something about it that has a feeling of the supernatural in it. You can't combat that with science …._

Listening again to Jai and Solus' conversation, he sees Jai's expression fall in response to something said he hadn't caught and Garrus lays a hand on her shoulder, thrumming in reassurance. Nihlus glances to Solus and flicks his mandibles at the man's glance over the two, sure the old salarian sees the same thing that's blossoming between the woman and Nocturni. While not exactly the best thing to have come of this entire stint on Omega, he has to admit that perhaps a connection between the two, bruised and beaten as they are, can help pull together the damaged pieces.

 _I've become a damn romantic_  ….

"Thank you for keeping on it, Mordin," Jai says with a weak smile before her expression relaxes, "but maybe you can help Daniel and Ivelina?"

Solus hums and takes his chin in hand and Nihlus rumbles in curiosity, a nagging feeling telling him he might have an idea why the clinic is suddenly flooding with patients. "Do you know why so many people are coming to you? From what everyone's saying, it seems like this is unsual."

The salarian nods once. "Yes. Rumors of bloodborne illness circulating Omega, assume same pathogen."

Jai frowns in confusion. "Who would have known he was infected with something? Only we knew …."

"There are bound to be more than just a few Nocturni out there," Nihlus says, buzzing in annoyance. "One of them must not be making an effort to be all that secretive." Pulling his mandibles close, he trills in discomfort. "That's not good …."

"Nocturni turian mythology," Solus says, packing his things into his small medical duffle. "Can't confirm existence, only scientific facts. Pathogen not communicable between species. Turian specific virus."

"Do what you can," Nihlus says, turning to the others and motioning with his chin. "We should get moving."

"Jai … a moment?" Solus asks and Nihlus and Garrus make a point to give the two doctors privacy.

From their distance, Nihlus can't hear what's being said, but whatever it is makes Garrus trill and flutter his mandibles in embarassment. Jai too gives off the body language of discomfort as Solus speaks and struggles to keep eye contact, all signs of emotions matching the much more sensitive to sound Nocturni.

When she returns to them, a blush covering her cheeks, Garrus clears his throat but Nihlus picks up a hint of something from the Nocturni that's very telling of what exactly has the two so embarrassed.

_Sex …. The salarian definitely sees it too._

"We should get going," Garrus says, pointedly keeping from making eye contact with the other two as he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "My armor should be done by now and I could really go for something else than a sheet."

Behind Garrus' back, Nihlus gives Jai a look and raises a brow plate, humming in curiosity. She gives him a slight glare, cheeks reddening more before she huffs.

"It's nothing," she says quietly, glancing at Garrus' back before turning a scathing look on Nihlus. "Don't bring it up …. Please …."

"Oh, I can promise you I'm the only one that  _doesn't_ know what was said." Nihlus rumbles in amusement at the dawning of realization on her face. "Nocturni can hear a lot better than turians, so there's no secret. You might as well tell me."

"No."

He hums in question, adding a soft, soothing thrum to the sound. "I'm sure it could benefit our hunt. And I should be aware of if I'm walking in on something at the apartment."

She purses her lips, narrowing her eyes as she stares ahead. "He's sending me a  _positions_  handbook, for Christ's sake," she hisses.

Giving Garrus' back a sideways glance to see if there's any reaction to definitely overhearing the conversation, he smirks knowingly. "Looks like we should make a closed-door policy at the apartment, for my sake. I'll take Jimmu too … save him from  _that_ kind of show."

Jai makes a squawk at a perfect pitch as any blue-blooded turian and Nihlus chuckles loudly at both her reaction and the slight tensing of Garrus' shoulders. At least maybe the extra, unnecessary information about the two's love life might help keep them together, give Garrus a reason to accept his state besides rage and stifle Jai's breakdowns. If they're to hunt down Cydian, they need to be at there best and if that means the two bond, then Nihlus can handle the added complications of it all.


	15. This Life Has Left Me Cold and Damned

Garrus watches as Jai becomes a part of the Archangel team effortlessly, their initial suspicion in her and the disguised Nihlus overcome by her cheerfully helpful and inquisitive nature. Even if he couldn't hear what was said - and Nihlus wasn't really helping by describing it over the comm in his helmet to Garrus' visor - Garrus could see the easy way Jai seems to find a purpose once more after her entire life was thrown so out of balance by his sudden appearance the day before.

He knows the fact that his team aren't strangers to the Gozu district's clinic where she worked helps to instill confidence that she won't endanger them or their location, but he didn't need to know of their familiarity with the clinic to know she'd be loyal. She wants to help people, has that charitable nature Omega hasn't bled out of her, and Garrus has a feeling that his decision to offer her personal aid and attention to his team is just the kind of relief she needs from the new, strict protection order he and Nihlus have created. He can wait back in the shadows as he is now and feel sure that she will be able to do what she craves as well as be safe, both under his watchful eye as well as his team's.

Perhaps, in time, he can trust them enough to let her stay without him while he joins Nihlus in hunting down Cydian and her Nocturni.

"They seem to be taking to her quite well," he hears Nihlus say quietly over the comm and Garrus can't help but to rumble in agreement.

"It's better you let her do the talking, then." Shifting to get a better resting position with his new armor, he leans over the railing of the catwalk he's chosen, glancing directly below at the passing crowds of the Kima district. "Get her attention and get out of there."

"Less exposure means less time to get suspicious," Nihlus says, clearly understanding Garrus' reasoning and concern. "Good idea. Meet us at Afterlife. I'm taking her through a different route than directly across the bridge like we came in."

Garrus chuckles, knowing the man's desire to keep to the normal routine Garrus had explained his team is used to. When not anticipating staying at the base, Garrus comes in one way, passes on his orders, and often leaves another way. It's better to throw off any possible tails that way and his team just seemed to have accepted his admitted paranoia. It'd only stand out to them if Nihlus broke that unusual security measure with - of all things - a stranger at his side.

Waving Jai over, Nihlus tilts his head slightly towards the back of the apartment Garrus' team has taken over. "We should go." Sensat holds up a finger to interrupt, but Nihlus hums and holds up his hand to the salarian team member. "I have to get Shepard back to the clinic and return my watch. I'm charting patterns in merc movements around the clinic, trying to put together a pattern we can work with."

Garrus thrums, impressed, and speaks lowly though he knows only Nihlus can hear. "Nice cover."

The Archangel team accept the excuse for the most part, but he can tell that some are hesitant to entirely believe what Nihlus is saying. They don't stop him, though, when he motions Jai to join him and Garrus assumes it has more to do with the fact that they understand there is no way an imposter could possess the same information to get past the security checkpoints as he has himself. At least, Nihlus wouldn't have had it unless he'd found Archangel, tortured him for information, and then stripped his armor, put it on, and went to the base and if that were to happen, Garrus is damn sure there'd be a whole lot more than an introduction to the team's new on-sight doctor.

"You're going to need to give me directions to get out of here. Because I can't just use the front door." The hint of annoyance to Nihlus' voice makes Garrus chuckle, more than sure Nihlus isn't above his own irritating habits to protect himself.

"Under the stairs is an access to the lower level. It leads to the tunnels." Garrus stands up and heads for the adjoining catwalk to begin making his way to Afterlife. "It doesn't matter which tunnel you take, they all lead out onto the streets."

"... And which one takes us  _closer_ to Afterlife?"

"Take the right tunnel," Garrus answers, ducking under another catwalk that crosses over at a height that he could  _normally_ manage to slip under without effort. "I'm going to lose you once you do, so we'll meet up at Afterlife … as much as I  _love_ the idea of going to that disgusting place."

"It's not so bad when you consider why we're going."

He flicks his mandibles incredulously, highly doubting there is any good reason to want to go to the filthy, stifling club. "And that is?"

Before he can get his answer, the comm channel goes quiet. He sighs and flips off the communication connection on his visor, not wanting to hear the possible static interference that could come through while Nihlus and Jai are in the tunnels.

People move aside as Garrus walks the streets, though he's sure it has quite a bit to do with just how much more intimidating he is now that he's suited up in a massive set of armor well suited for his new form. Dark blue to the point it seems black in most lighting, it's been designed to fit his many new spikes and added bulk. Even without any real weapons strapped on, the frightened and intimidated faces tell him well enough of the type of appearance he has.

It's all just as well to him considering he feels much less like a freak with no clothes to fit his strange body and more like an actual danger to anyone who crosses him. He supposes he can get used to that idea when it suits his needs in hunting the one who did this to him. Besides, it wasn't like he wasn't used to the fact that Omega looked at Archangel in the same manner, spoken of in hushed tones, with the only difference to now being that he no longer hides his connection to the monster walking Omega's streets.

_Except as Archangel, I actually instilled hope in at least some people …. Now, it's more like a shuddering fear …._

Growling under his breath, Garrus shakes the thought away as he comes to the building crowd outside of Afterlife. He stays out of the cluster of sweaty, filthy, and foul-smelling bodies lined up in a haphazard formation that can barely be called a line, deciding to wait for Nihlus and Jai near the access to the Markets. If he's right, it's the direction they'll be coming from unless Jai strangely decided to take a different route once they exited the tunnels.

He doesn't wait long before he sees his familiar blue armor pushing through the crowds, Jai's unique pale skin and hair soon coming into view too. Garrus can't help the faster speed of his pulse at seeing them, a bit of happiness seeing that she made it despite his paranoia of having her out of his sight. He has nothing against Nihlus, but the Spectre's intense focus on hunting Nocturni makes Garrus concerned of just how far Nihlus would go to defend Jai if it was either her or killing Cydian.

Garrus doesn't blame the older turian for it, not really, because he knows Nihlus doesn't have the same view of Jai, the same reason to protect her at all costs. His own life included.

"That wasn't so bad," she says with a smile when they meet. "They seem really nice."

Garrus rumbles and nods. "Good. I'm sure they'll appreciate not having to find a way to the clinic. Maybe you can teach Sidonis a few things to take into the field."

Her brows rise in interest. "He's a medic?"

"He tries to be," He says with a slight shrug, wordlessly taking his rifle when Nihlus unholsters it and hands it over.

Jai doesn't respond, merely nodding as Nihlus offers Garrus the rest of his weapons to free up the proper place for his own assault rifle. Once all their weapons are holstered into place, Nihlus motions to follow as they make their way to Afterlife.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Jai asks, speeding her steps to keep up with them with her shorter legs. "As fun as it sounds, I'm not really a club person."

"We're here for information."

Humming at Nihlus' explanation, Garrus says more than asks, "The dancers."

"Uh …." At Jai's hesitance, Garrus glances down to her, catching her lift her brow in skepticism. "Half-naked dancers are great sources of information?"

Garrus nods once and says, "If they're on Aria's payroll, then yeah. They're the  _best_ source of information."

"If you can pay," Nihlus adds, coming to a stop just before the short steps leading up to Afterlife's main entrance and turning to them. "I have a source that hasn't given me bad info yet. She's expensive, but valuable. One of the best." He jerks his head back over his shoulder. "It won't take long to get what I need."

Jai bites her lip, a flicker of wariness flashing in her eyes as she looks over the crowd lined up for admittance into the obnoxiously loud club. "Yeah …. I think I'm going to wait out here. Clubs aren't really my thing."

Garrus doesn't need explanation to know what worries her and it seems Nihlus picks up on her discomfort, nodding before glancing towards Garrus, rumbling in question.

"I'd rather wait up out here, too." Garrus hums and drops his gaze to Jai, flicking a reassuring smile. "I'll stay and give you some company while we wait."

Jai smiles, nodding in thanks, and Nihlus turns towards the club. "I won't be long. I'll ping you in anything comes up."

Easily able to see over the crowds, Garrus watches the older turian weave and push his way through the throngs of people deemed unfitting for entrance into the club. He flicks his mandible with the bouncers don't even glance the Spectre's way, realizing that Aria must have some kind of hand in Nihlus' hunt for Cydian and her spawn. That could also mean Aria just wants to keep a constant eye on Nihlus, however, given the universe's shared views on the sheer amount of destruction a Spectre can leave in their wake.

"So, tell me the truth." At Jai's request, Garrus' gaze drops to her at his side and he sees her with a dubious expression in her pale features. "I should probably find somewhere to sit for a while, shouldn't I?"

"What do you mean?"

Huffing, she smiles at him. "Please. I don't have to be a regular - or even  _been in_  - Afterlife to know the naked dancers aren't just for show." She slips from his side and he follows her out of the thickest crowds towards some long dead planters. She brushes the cold metal off some and apparently finds it clean enough, leaning back against it with her hands propping herself up. "I don't mind if he does, just figured I might as well get comfortable."

Garrus knows perfectly well what she means and, if he's honest, he wouldn't blame the Spectre if he found some stress relief. It's been too long for himself and tensions are high, but Garrus doubts he'll be finding an outlet any time soon with his own looks. Nihlus might as well be able to blow off steam.

_Should have taken advantage when I was still attractive._

"I'm sure he'd send us off if he needed it," he says, shifting his weight. He can't really lean against the planter like her with his height, too tall now to comfortably relax like any  _normal_  turian. Crossing his arms, he sighs loudly. "I really don't want to think about us waiting out here while he gets laid. It's loud … and stinks."

He seems to be more aware of scents since becoming this monstrosity and on Omega, it only serves to feed his agitation. At the rate it's rising, he'll need some way to expend his energies and tension soon. It's something he doesn't like to think about and one he wants to lose control of even less. Nihlus hasn't been quiet about his concerns of Garrus losing control to his hunger and it's a reality that weighs heavily on his mind, reminds him of its existence each time the music pounds loudly or someone passes close enough for him to catch their scent above the ambient stench of the station.

Jai chuckles softly, tilting her head to look at him from the corner of her eye. "Well, hopefully he'll send us home if he wants to wait up." She looks down to her feet, adding, "I'm sure you wouldn't be against heading back either …. Are you hungry?"

The sudden question so close to his own thoughts surprises him and he blinks, clicking his mandibles as he turns to her. "Am I acting differently?" he asks, concern buzzing in his vocals.

Jai's eyes widen and she shakes her head, standing up from the planter. "Nono …. No, you aren't acting different or anything." She lays a hand on his armored chest. "Sorry, that probably came out really wrong. I guess I'm just trying to learn what will keep you well nourished." Huffing, the corner of her mouth quirks. "I have a feeling you're a very bullheaded man and I'll have to nag you to get any answers."

Rumbling in reassurance, Garrus lays his hand on the underside of her elbow. "I'm okay. I don't feel like an animal drooling over its next meal, so I don't need to …." He trails off the rest, not yet ready to acknowledge the fact his body thrives off actual blood. At her stern look, he flicks a weak mandible in agreement. "I promise I'll let you know."

Her eyes take him in before she finally nods. "Okay …. But don't think I'll be squeamish or anything. I'm a doctor. I've seen blood and seeing you drink it is …" she says, slowing down at the falter in his expression. "I just want you to know that I don't think all the horrible things you probably do about yourself."

"Do you even know what 'Nocturni' means to a turian, though?"

She frowns slightly and shakes her head once, but steps closer and lays both palms on the cold metal of his chest plate. "No, but you haven't given me any reason to think of you as any kind of 'monster.'" She smiles softly, slipping her hands over to grab the edges of his chest plate and give it a nudge as if she tries to give him a firm, single shake. "Remember that. That a tiny human thinks you aren't as scary as you make yourself out to be."

Rumbling at her warm expression, Garrus feels some of the leaden weight around his neck loosen and he flares a mandible in thanks. He takes her hand in his when she moves it closer to the center of his armored keel and gives it a slight squeeze. "I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not that you're so nonchalant about this."

She shrugs, smiling as she turns to return to her perch on the planter. Garrus holds her hand a moment longer, taking comfort in the ease with which Jai has accepted what still brings him anger and regret.

His hyperawareness picks up on a heavy growling and hurried footsteps approaching from behind and Garrus' body tenses, adrenaline surging as he steps between Jai and whatever's closing in on them quickly. Before he can turn completely to face the threat, it lunges onto his back and throws his weight against the planter. A white hot pain pierces through his throat as his attacker sinks its teeth into hide and he snarls, bucking to shift the weight on his back.

"Garrus!" rings out from Jai as their attacker releases Garrus' throat with a choking gag and he uses the slack in attention to grab its leg - and the spur attached to it - and yanks hard. He hears a crack as the spur gives to the direct force and his attacker shouts in pain, the sound gurgled with Garrus' own blood still in their mouth. His attacker's grip on his armor loosens enough that another hard buck of Garrus' body throws off the weight and he uses the grip on their spur to throw them away from himself and Jai.

Growling, Garrus lays a hand on his bleeding throat, sure he'd be dead if he were still turian with the amount of blood seeping around his fingers. He pulls away to check his glove and scowls at the blackish hue to his blood.

 _The blood of a beast_.

"Oh, god, Garrus!" Jai's skin looks even paler than normal, making her seem to glow as she rushes to his side. "You're bleeding all over the place …." She tries to pull him down to see, but he covers her hand on his cowl, humming in concern more for her own safety. Humans don't usually go white unless they've been injured.

"Are you okay?" he asks before she can speak and she visibly swallows.

Though slightly frantic, her eyes are crystal clear as she steels her expression and nods. "Yeah, I'm completely - Garrus!"

He spins towards a new attack, prepared and waiting for his charging attacker. His attacker - a  _Nocturni_  - roars as it blindly lunges and Garrus ducks into the attack, using their momentum to throw them over his shoulder to land on the ground with a hard thud.

Before the other Nocturni - a male - can regain control, Garrus snatches his naked form off the ground with gloved talons digging into his cowl and hauls the attacker towards the nearest wall. Slamming the Nocturni's back against the unforgiving metal, Garrus snarls and bares his teeth, using his armored body to pin the bare male in place.

"Who sent you?" he demands, slamming the Nocturni against the wall when he hesitates. "Answer me!"

"I don't know! No one sent me," the male shouts back, mandibles flicking constantly as he licks his lips and stares Garrus down with pleading, yet frantically hungry eyes. "Please …. I'm just so hungry …."

"Garrus." Jai's voice is soft as she comes to his side, a concerned frown etched into her features. "Look at him …. He's new like you …."

Giving just enough space between them to see the other Nocturni's body, Garrus hums at the realization that the male is still covered in the mucous fluid Garrus was covered in when he had first mutated and burst through his normal plates. The black fluid is still wet in places as it hangs off the other Nocturni, but the throbbing pain in Garrus' own throat stands as a stark reminder of what the bastard was trying to do.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, growling low at the Nocturni in threat should he choose to lie.

"I don't …. What's wrong with me?"

Scowling at the continued flow of his own blood down the front of his armor - though slowed - and the near mirror look of complete fear in the other Nocturni's eyes, Garrus loosens, then tightens his grip on the other man's cowl. "Someone attacked you. Something that looks like  _us_  …. Bled on you!" he snarls, shaking the man in frustration. "What did they look like?"

The Nocturni seems to deflate in his arms as he whimpers, throat moving as he swallows a few times. "I don't know who he was …. He just came and attacked us, but didn't kill me. He … he did something." He looks up to Garrus with wide, glazed eyes and Garrus has to swallow against the animalistic need in the man, wondering how long he'll last before he suffers the same fate. "When I woke up, I was alone. And so  _hungry_  …. Please help me …. I didn't want any of this …."

Jai lays a hand on Garrus' arm and he glances to her in his peripheral without turning his head away from the other Nocturni. "What do we do? We can't just let him starve …."

"What do you suggest?" Garrus' voice is a bit harsher than he intended and he immediately regrets his words when she flinches at the irritation. Exhaling heavily to try and calm himself, he looks to her once before back to the other Nocturni. "Something tells me we can't bite each other … so that leaves only you. I am  _not,_ " he says, growling at the Nocturni to prove his point, "letting him anywhere near you."

The Nocturni keens, dropping his head as his hands wring themselves on Garrus' armored forearms. "Please don't kill me …" he whispers, all but resigned to his fate.

Garrus' mandibles loosen from his jaw as his eyes roam over the other Nocturni in his hands. Hunger fueled him, drove him into attacking like a wild animal, but he was obviously left to fend for himself after some Nocturni infected him. How much will it take before Garrus finds the hunger too much to control? He already feels the hyper awareness of his starving body and how his own body reacts to the slightest scent of blood on passersby, the nagging feeling to track them to somewhere dark and quiet where he could trace the scent to the source and feed.

Disgust rising in his throat, Garrus snarls and tosses the man to the ground. He closes his eyes, clenching his fists as he fights not to vent his anger on someone no worse than himself, no less innocent in this all.

"Go," he says through his clenched teeth without looking to the Nocturni. "Get out of here before I change my mind."

He can practically feel the shock emanating from the man, but a sharp snarl in his direction gets him moving. Garrus waits until the heavy thumps of the bare feet merge into the ambient sound of the club before he slowly opens his eyes. He stares at the graffiti stained wall before him as he forces heavy breaths through his nose, pries his fists open, and loosens the tension in his shoulders.

His throat throbs to the beat of the club and he can smell his own fetid blood as it cloys to the roof of his mouth.

"Garrus?" Jai says softly, as if wary of attracting his attention.

Her voice pours some coolness on his raging mind and he turns to her, rumbling weakly. He knows he's not okay, but he won't hurt her. He'd rather waste away from starvation than cause her harm.

"I don't know if letting him go was really the best thing to do," he admits. Looking towards the direction he's sure the other Nocturni ran, Garrus sighs at the hollow feeling of apathy towards the very real possibility that he just let a feral beast out on the innocent people of Omega. "But I couldn't do it."

The two fall silent as she pulls him to sit on the planter so she can take a look at his wound. He refuses to let her use medigel because it seems like whatever special qualities that makes Nocturni harder to kill has slowed the bleeding nearly completely on its own. Whatever reserves his body has drawn on to stop the bleeding is draining, though, and he feels himself growing even hungrier with each passing second. His mouth waters in anticipation each time he catches the slight scent of blood from a passing mercenary or tossed out club patron.

He's to the point of questioning whether or not he can stand to remain here without striking out when Nihlus pushes through the throng of people. Immediately, his expression stiffens when he's close enough to see the sight of Garrus' blood despite Jai's best efforts to clean him up and he visibly shifts his posture to be open to draw his rifle at a moment's notice should things get hot.

"What happened?" The older turian's voice is stern as his green eyes ghost over Garrus before turning to Jai and doing the same.

"A Nocturni attacked Garrus," Jai explains with a motion of her chin towards the original altercation a few meters away.

"And where is it now?" Nihlus quirks a brow plate, gaze expectant though Garrus knows full well the Spectre knows exactly what happened, as if wanting the answer is some kind of test.

Humming in annoyance at the flippant attitude towards a very real struggle he's going through, Garrus flicks a mandible and looks towards the spot on the floor where his blackish blue blood stained the metal. "I couldn't kill him-"

Nihlus emits a frustrated, chiding growl. "You let a killing-"

"I let what could very well be me one day go," Garrus snaps, baring his teeth at Nihlus. "That can be me any day now. But you don't give a damn, do you? I'll just be another Nocturni to chalk up on your body count."

"I do give a damn." Nihlus crosses his arms. "You let an unknown go. At least with you, I can know what we're trying is or isn't working. And I'd like to think you'd  _appreciate_  it when truth came down to either you going willingly or me having to hunt you down like an animal."

"Excuse me if I find it hard to be appreciative of you murdering me," Garrus says with a buzz of annoyance in his vocals. "If you weren't too busy knot deep in some dancer, you could've killed him yourself."

Nihlus shakes his head, expression flat as if he's speaking to a child, and Garrus clenches his jaw. Still, the Spectre seems to drop that particular subject as he asks, "Did he at least say anything about who infected him? How they did it?"

"Not exactly," Jai says softly, stepping closer as if to break the tension between the two males. "He said someone - a male - turned him, but he was alone when he woke up again."

Nihlus hums, gaze shifting aside as he seems to contemplate. "Matches up with what I've been told." His mandibles flick once before he glances at Garrus. "You two should get out of the open," he says before addressing Jai, "see if you can make due with whatever you can safely give him without making yourself sick." Exhaling, his vocals shift, becoming more assured as he speaks to Garrus. "You're not going to lose yourself any time soon if you trust us. She'll give you something and I'll be willing to let her draw some from me too if need be." He takes a step back, turning to leave before lowering his voice. "I really want this to work, too, you know. If you can do it, then there's hope for others."


	16. 'Cause It's Time To Bring The Fire Down

Jai can tell the attack and following pleas from the newly changed Nocturni eats at Garrus as they make their way back to the apartment they share. His bleeding had stopped so long as he didn't move his head around enough to unseal the clotting, but it seems to be taking a deeper hold on him.

His eyes are slightly frantic as they constantly flit among the passersby before snapping forward or down to his own hands clenching and relaxing before him. She acts like she doesn't see it, but even in the low light of the Omega streets, she catches his nose constantly shifting at scents, mouth slightly open so he can taste the air without attracting attention. No matter how hard he's trying, she can tell he's struggling and she doesn't know if getting him home is going to help much.

He's starving in a sea of food and there's nothing she can do to help him.

"You're not like him, you know," she says above the crowds, hoping that distracting him until they can get home can help distract him from his hunger. When he looks down to her, confusion dancing with that frightening stare of a predator, she bites her lip before forcing an encouraging, albeit weak, smile. "You aren't going to go crazy and start attacking people."

Garrus frowns, stopping in the street to turn to her. "You don't know that." His chest expands as he takes a deep breath, but he clearly regrets it as he clenches his eyes against whatever he smells. "You don't know what I'm thinking right now, what I want to do to people."

She hopes the omittance of her in his words means something, that he doesn't fear being around her, but she doesn't pry as she reaches forward - despite her higher thinking saying against it - and takes his hands in hers. He tenses a moment, but doesn't yank his hands away, letting her hold the heavy weight of his inner turmoil in her so much smaller - and dwarfed by comparison - hands. She strokes her thumbs across his first knuckle and steps closer to him so she doesn't have to yell. His eyes widen and she feels his hands twitch as he fights not to flee, but she holds his forefingers tightly to keep him still.

"I don't … but I know you. You've already proven yourself to be better than him in just the short time knowing you."

"Why?" he asks, frown eching deep into his brow and clamped mandibles. "What have I done that makes you so sure?"

Smiling softly, Jai doesn't quite know how to explain the feeling she has, the assurance that he's stronger than Nihlus' horror stories would make her believe.

She just knows.

"Come on," she says, tugging slightly on Garrus' hands as she decides to wait to have this conversation in a more private setting. "I promise I'll tell you once we get you cleaned up."

He quiets, letting her lead him through the crowds until they reach the apartment. It's there that he steps in front of her and looks down with a weak smile and explains. "It's a habit to check beforehand."

Jai smiles at his care, even if his paranoia is a bit strong, but chalks it up to being Archangel for so long much like the hoops she and Nihlus had to jump through back at the base with Garrus' team. She takes a step back to let him unlock the door and step inside, giving the room a quick scan both visually and, she assumes, his visor. When he seems satisfied, he turns aside and rumbles softly, clearly forced in efforts to sound calm.

She smiles as best she can, hoping to help him relax, and lays her hand on his arm as she passes. Before she can get completely into the apartment, she hears Jimmu's gruff half bark come from the upper bedroom. Garrus closes the door behind them and Jai bends down to pet Jimmu, nudging him away as she glances back to Garrus.

"Why don't you get your armor off and I'll see if we can clean off that blood." She smiles apologetically. "No offense, but it smells really …."

"Rotten?" He supplies as she frowns, knowing full well that's exactly what she was thinking. Seeing her expression, Garrus flicks his mandibles against his jaw as he looks away. "Yeah …. Good idea. I'll worry about cleaning the armor later."

Nodding, Jai chews her lip and takes a few steps back towards the bathroom before turning. "Come, Jimmu," she says softly, urging her companion towards the bathroom.

She trusts Garrus not to hurt her, but she can't help fearing for Jimmu. She hates admitting ever thinking Garrus could lose control and hurt someone so special to her, but there's still a part of her worried for her most trusted friend. It's a part that's making a point to remind her that she should be feeling that same kind of fear for her own personal being too, but she can't cower away in the bathroom while Garrus suffers.

Not with a clear conscious.

Jai turns on the water to get warm and fetches a towel from the shelf as Jimmu takes a seat beside her, inquisitive eyes watching her movements. She turns a shy smile his way before tucking half of the towel into the sink to soak up some water. She feels like she should explain to Jimmu, but a glance at herself in the mirror steals her breath.

Blackish blood is smeared across her left cheek, along her jaw, and there are splotches and speckles across the upper shoulder and chest of her shirt. She has no idea she managed to touch herself when she was tending to Garrus' wound, but looking back down to see the stains against the ghostly white skin of her hands, she feels a chill wash over her. Even though he seems stable for the most part, her years treated patients brings fears of too much blood lost, of dwindling life as she tries to stifle the flow of warmth from seeping between her fingers.

Jai clenches her eyes to cut off that line of thinking before it gets its claws into her, breathing heavily. "It's just the water," she tells herself as she slowly opens her eyes and forces herself to ignore the blood and look into her own eyes. "You can do this. You can hold it together for him."

Swallowing against the ebb of emotions, Jai uses her hands to wipe away the blood caked to her skin. She can't do anything for her shirt, but just that small bit of cleaning has helped cut back on the running thoughts in her mind.

She wrings out the towel and looks down to Jimmu. "Be good and wait for me in here." She smiles weakly and reaches down to pet his head, rubbing his ear. "We'll be okay. Don't worry."

Jimmu never looks away, intense and knowing gaze following her as she steps out and slowly closes the door behind her. She won't need him to step in, and if she did, she wouldn't want him to have to and something horrible come to pass. Strong as she thinks she is, she still leans on her little companion more than she should. She'd much rather something happen to her than any harm befall him when he tries to stand his ground to protect her.

Garrus stands, attention on his armor piled in the corner of the room, and Jai frowns at the all too obvious tension laying across his shoulders and back. She knows he hears her when she exits the bathroom, but he doesn't turn to her save for a glance over his massive shoulder. His eyes are less frantic, but in place of that crazed stare, she sees a type of wretched pain. The sight hurts and she clenches the towel tighter, feeling a trickle of water slip down her knuckles.

"I got your kit," He says and, to her visible confusion, motions the medical kit on the counter of the kitchen. "I'm sorry to feel like I'm rushing, but …."

"But you're starving," she says, voice soft as she looks away from his gaze and towards the couch. "Come on, sit. I'll get you started and you can finish up while I get started."

Garrus hums, the sound giving her a sense of genuine gratitude. As he sits, settled on the edge of the couch in obvious discomfort and watching her closely as she moves between his legs. His hands twitch a few times in the air before he settles them on his thighs, eyes pointedly staying away from her direction.

Squeezing out what collected water still remains in the towel onto his wound, she carefully dabs at the collection of blood in hopes of loosening that which has simply dried on his cowl and hide. Not much manages to wipe off, but she'd like to see how his body has managed with such an extensive wound. It's not like she knows how she'd treat a person whose wounds heal quick enough that sutures would just seem like overkill.

"Here," she whispers when she starts to see the shine of fresh blood from finding the wound, handing over the towel. "Be gentle and try not to make yourself bleed all over the place, but if you do, well … you know the drill."

Rumbling, Garrus takes the towel and rubs his neck with less care than she had. While not exactly what she meant, he doesn't seem in pain from it, she leaves him be.

_He's not in pain because he's hurting in other ways …._

Jai watches him a moment, frowning at his head turned away as if in shame, before coming to a conclusion. A traditional blood draw will take a while to do in a safe manner and there's no telling how torturous that'll be for Garrus to sit there and watch. How would it feel to be in the dessert, dying of thirst, with a glass of water always just beyond your reach?

_I don't know why I'm thinking this … but it could be the only thing to work._

She steps away from Garrus and walks to the medical kit in the kitchen, digging through the supplies for things she'll need for her idea. She removes a couple of antiseptic wipes, gauze, and a disinfected, one-use scalpel. He may never agree, but if she can't convince him, he may not last through a traditional blood draw anyways. Tucking the items in her hand and slipping it behind her back as she turns, she slowly returns to Garrus.

"I have an idea," she says when he glances her way. He frowns and rumbles in question, but doesn't immediately speak.

Smiling, she sets her tools on the side table, moving before grabbing a sealed antiseptic wipe and tearing it open. He watches her, obviously thinking she's going to sit beside him and the realization makes his eyes widen in shock and mandibles quiver. He sits back as if trying to get away from her, opening his mouth a few times.

"I can't …. You can't be near me when you take blood." His mandibles flick as he tries to stand, but she moves closer between his legs, tossing the used wipe on the side table. "I can't wait like that …."

She lays her hand on his knee and squeezes slightly. "Don't worry, you won't have to."

Ignoring his quivering mandibles and scared stare, Jai tears open the scalpel's bag and tosses the trash aside. She pops off the cap and examines her left arm, trying to decide where would work best, unable to imagine any other time where she'd think this would be the reasonable next step to the situation.

Garrus seems to have a weird way of making her do crazy things.

"Wait, no." Garrus grabs her hand and pulls it to get her attention. "What are you doing?" he hisses, gaze shifting between her face and the scalpel. "Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what I'll do?"

"Do you?" Knowing that's the wrong response, Jai smiles and relaxes in his hold. She lifts a hand and hesitates a moment before touching his face, the tips of her fingers ghosting down the faded blue of his colony paints. "It'll be okay. I trust you."

"No …. We can do something else." He closes his eyes, pained as he lifts his other hand to her ribs. His grip feels like he's on the precipice, trying to decide to push her away or pull her in. "Jai, I can't," he says, voice weak as he looks into her eyes and swallows heavily. "I can't hurt you."

She makes the choice for him, closing the gap between them and fully cups his cheek. "You won't. I know you won't."

" _How_  do you know?" The desperation in his voice, the slight crack of a keen, has her fingers trembling around the scalpel and she smiles, fighting from tears at his pain.

"Because you are different from the others. You have more control than you'll ever admit. I know you won't do anything I don't want you to." She bites her lip and looks over his face so close, his warm breath against her skin as his gaze moves away from her sight. "Garrus …. This  _will_ work."

"Okay," he whispers, closing his eyes slowly as he dips his head. "Okay, but if I do anything to you-"

"You won't," she interrupts, backing away to give her space between them so she can maneuver.

Being a doctor, she knows she shouldn't do this, but circumstances are different from any other she's been in. This man …. She cares for him and that has a funny way of painting things in a light that's making her throw caution to the wind in any effort to protect what's important to her. If a small cut is all it takes to help him, then she's done hesitating.

Making a small slice in the skin of her upper arm, Jai feels Garrus' grip tighten more than the sting of the blade. She reaches blindly to set the blade down on the side table, eyes on his lowered head. With no other choice but to truly test their trust in each other, she lifts her hand to his chin and pushes his head up to make him look her in the eyes.

Mandibles quivering, Garrus pants with slightly opened mouth and she's sure he tastes the metallic tang of her blood in the air. She smiles and nods, shifting to show him the cut on the outer, fleshy part of her left arm. He swallows thickly, jerking as he forces himself to stay in place despite an obvious instinct telling him to pounce.

The fact that he's waiting for her permission sends a pang of something sharp through her and she swallows against her dry mouth. "Okay, Garrus. It's okay …. Go ahead."

The second the words leave her lips, she hears the loudest whine as he pulls her against his body, mouth immediately dropping to lick the trail of blood dripping slowly down her arm. He growls, but the sound doesn't frighten her as he closes his eyes and covers her wound with his mouth, his rough tongue swiping across her wound. It stings initially, but something must be in his saliva as she feels the area numb slightly, taking away the pain as he opens his mouth to get a better connection to her.

Unsure what to do, Jai hesitantly lays her hand on his shoulder. Surprisingly, he pauses and opens his eyes, looking up to her in question. She's shocked he's still in there enough to remember her there and the time when she'll tell him to stop. Proud of being right, of knowing he'd never lose himself and hurt her, Jai smiles and nods softly.

"Sorry," she says. "You can keep going."

She can feel his purr more than hear it and she watches as he keeps eyes contact long enough to watch her reaction to the rough drag of his tongue along her arm. Whatever he's looking for, he must see as he closes his eyes and drags the flat of his longer fangs against her skin, parting his mouth plates to latch on and suck slightly.

She can feel everything, but it doesn't hurt. The wound itself is numbed by whatever is in his saliva - something she  _knows_ is a Nocturni thing - and she's left with only the sensation of his rough tongue lapping at her skin, soft mouth plates, and slightest suction his mouth is capable of. Even his vocals rumbling through him cause him to vibrate beneath her hand and his tongue to send shivers across her nerves.

Just as her skin breaks out into prickled bumps and she shivers a bit at the chill down her spine, he stops. She opens her mouth to speak, but he shakes his head, not looking at her for the moment he takes to lick his mouth plates. When he finally looks up to her, his eyes are clearer, his voice steadier as he speaks.

"I don't feel right taking any more from you." He ducks his head to look at his hands as he strokes a thumb just below her wound, his saliva also apparently helping to keep her from bleeding out when he's not feeding. "I can't ask for more …."

"But," she starts, cupping his face to lift his gaze to hers. "Is it enough?"

"For now." His voice softens as he pulls her closer and ducks his head to make up for the way their height differences cause a new kind of difficulty in looking each other directly in the eyes. "Thank you," he says, barely above a whisper that she can feel on her cheek.

A new chill rolls down her spine as she turns to him, smiling softly as her eyes follow the swipe of blue across his cheeks and nose. "Of course …. I told you," she says, unable to help herself as she huffs against his mouth.

Garrus merely hums as he closes the little space between them, pressing his forehead to hers in a turian gesture she knows not from her many turian patients, but even vids depicting any kind of affection between turians. Her cheeks flush as she pushes back against him in a show of reciprocating in a way he wouldn't mistake for just a human fidgeting. His vocals shift into a low, thrumming purr as he lifts a hand up to cup just below her jaw and shifts just enough to break contact to let his mouth hover just before hers.

Understanding both his openness to an alien gesture as well as open opportunity for her to pull away, Jai makes her own humming sound of approval as she presses her lips to his mouth plates. She kisses at his plates to make up for the lack of lips before flicking her tongue out to lick at him in an all too obvious offer to deepen the kiss into something he's more comfortable with.

And one so much more intimate.

She breathes in his soft growl as his tongue joins hers, curling and dancing within the slight metallic traces of her own blood amongst the sweet smokeness of his own taste. A soft whimper escapes her as she slides her hands down his throat to feel the broad expanse of his bare chest. When his large hands wrap around her waist to pull her up into his lap, she moans fully at being so completely surrounded by him, at the way his hands engulf her without effort.

It along with the knowledge that he just proved he could never hurt her sends chills down her arms as she wraps them around his neck and pulls back to speak.

"Is this too fast?" she asks, voice airy as she licks her lips and slides her hands along his cowl.

Worry washes over his face and he sits up straighter beneath her. "Are you uncomfortable? Because we can stop if-"

Shaking her head, she offers him a reassuring smile as she cups his face. "I'm not uncomfortable … just worried that maybe …. I don't know …."

_Too good to be true …._

"Jai," he says, purring as he slips a talon around a strand of her white hair and feels it against the pad of his finger. "You're the only person on this damn station I thought I could ever come to for help. You  _are_ the only one who has helped me with no questions asked." He lifts his hand to her cheek, leaning forward to rub his forehead to hers. "You're the only reason I care enough not to just let Nihlus end it. You're the one I tell myself that deserves a better Omega, even if it means I have to live like this long enough to make it that way." Frowning, he leans back to look into her eyes, pain swimming in the beautiful blue of them. "You're the only one that doesn't look at me like a monster."

"Because you aren't one." She covers his hand with her own, squeezing it as best she can. "From the moment we meant, I knew you were special. And now that I know you, I know you're special to more than just Omega." She shifts to hug him, nuzzling her cheek to his. "You're special to me. I don't see a monster even if you do. I see you."


	17. As We Both Burst Into Flames

When Jai sits back, Garrus' mandibles flutter at the shy, but obvious smirk on her lips giving him the feeling her next statement is bound to floor him just as easily as everything else she's confessed. Before he can completely gather his wits, her expression gains more confidence as she moves her eyes, taking in the sight of him.

"And I like what I see," she says softly, biting the corner her lip when his eyes widen and a trill escapes his throat.

"You …. You do?" he stammers, madibles flaring uncontrollably as he tries to comprehend just what in the universe would make her find anything in him appealing. When she nods, grinning and shifting closer on his lap to lay her hands on his bare cowl, he forces his mandibles under control. "You do," he says, now more skeptical than surprised.

"Yeah, I do." She looks down to her hands as she slides them across his cowl to meet at his keel, thumbs stroking along the center of it. "I know I'm just a human with little knowledge of turian appeal," she says and looks up into his eyes, "but I know what I like. And that's  _you_."

His voice is low, barely above a weak whisper as he looks away from her in shame. "But … I'm a monster."

She cups his face, turning his gaze back to her eyes, such an interesting color of almost purple in the way light blue and red dances within her irises. Smiling, she leans forward and presses her forehead to his and a breath he hadn't known he was holding passes his mouth plates as the feeling of weight lessens from his shoulders.

"Who said that has to be a bad thing?" she says, nuzzling her forehead to his. "If I'm honest," she starts, leaning back and ducking her head, cheeks blushing, "I kinda like the way you look."

"You're joking." He can't help questioning her, knowing that even a human can see just how …  _wrong_  he looks compared to any other turian.

Her furrowed brow makes him swallow any protest and she shakes her head once, giving a deep sigh. "I don't know how to help you see what I see. If I did, I wouldn't hesitate." Her eyes move over his face as she lifts a hand to caress his mandible. "I'm not going to sugarcoat things, but I will tell you the truth as crazy as it sounds." Her other hand lifts and she cups his face in her tiny palms. "I like you like this. You were handsome before, but you like this feels … I don't know … safe. You aren't what you look like, not when I've seen how gentle and caring you can be." A slight huff escapes her as she smiles softly. "And I think it was actually pretty sexy to think back to you walking around mostly naked."

The actual situation of walking around Omega with just a sheet wrapped around him brings an amused rumble to his throat as he lifts a hand to lay over hers. "I guess that means I can open a fashion line for Nocturni, then."

Snorting, she grins and leans closer, nuzzling her nose against his before pressing her lips to his mouth. He thrums softly and drops his hands to her waist to pull her close, deepening the kiss as he slips his tongue past her lips. The small sounds she makes and shift of her body against him start to stir a part of him he thought dead from neglect and his current mental state, but he pulls away just enough to make sure she wants him to react to the way her whole self sings to his senses.

"Jai," he says, voice soft for fear of scaring away the just beginnings of whatever it is they're building, "I want you to be completely comfortable. If you only want this, then you need to tell me." He looks into her eyes, purring. "I'm right with you wherever you want to take us."

She smiles, lifting her hand to trace his faded colony paints almost completely worn away from his gruesome shift. "With you, I am comfortable. I'd be more active here, but I've never been with a turian …. I know where to touch from medical texts, but …. Yeah."

She trails off at Garrus rumbling chuckle as he smirks, flaring his mandibles teasingly. "Well, I never would have imagined the mention of medical texts would help with the mood-" Jai scoffs and swats his chest with the back of her hand, not nearly hard enough for him to feel it. He laughs lightly, brushing a strand of her hair from her face as she mock pouts. "To tell the truth, I haven't been with a human, and I don't have diagrams to go off of."

Chuckling, she sits back and asks, "Have you slept with an asari before?"

"It's Omega," he says, knowing that should be answer enough and she snorts.

"Okay, okay … dumb question." Reaching for his hands, she lifts them and guides them to her chest. "Breasts are the same for humans and asari."

He hums at the bit of familiarity and takes control of his hands, gently cupping her breasts in each. Her slight hitch in breathing when he shifts to feel for her nipples with his thumbs guides his touch and his vocals drop to a bassy thrum. Her clothes are thin enough that he can feel her body react and she closes her eyes, hands laying on top of his moving to stroke aimlessly over his forearms.

A weight of her growing arousal settles in his chest as he starts to smell her and he leans in to her throat to steal deep breaths of her, mouth nibbling at her skin. She gasps softly and he feels the tiny hairs on her neck rise as her hands move from his arms to settle closer, one on his shoulder as the other slips beneath his crest to search for that sensitive spot hidden at its base. He groans when she finds it, her fingers kneading firmly with a skill he's surprise she has from just what she's read in her medical books.

Running his tongue along her racing pulse, he groans when she jerks in his lap, the friction adding to his long dry spell to quickly loosen his plates. He tugs at her shirt, only leaning back enough to pull it over her head and toss it away. With absolutely no idea how to approach the tighter piece across her breasts, he lets her hands slip from him to reach back as he drags his tongue along her neck and shoulders. The growing heat of her skin as she flushes feeds his desire as he feels her rapid pulse against his tongue, the sensation mixing with the thickness of her growing arousal flooding his senses.

No sooner than she's thrown away the last piece of fabric covering her chest does he cup a breast and circle her nipple with his thumb properly. He drops his head to lathe her other breast with his tongue, nipping at her nipple and purring at her soft moan and tightened grip on his shoulders. She seems to remember her own ministrations after a moment, her hands dipping beneath his crest as she arches, pressing her body closer to his own.

Garrus can't control the heady growl that comes from him when he feels his cock erect, slipping from his sheath and sped up from the way she's grinding her hips against him. She has to feel him because he hears her moan louder, feels her hands tug his head up, and tastes her hunger as she shoves her lips to his mouth, tongue pressing in to roughly stroke against his own.

He takes only a moment to indulge in her kiss, his hands moving to her hips to pull her against him in a small way of feeding his own neediness. Apparently too soon for her judging by her whine, he pulls his mouth from hers and moves his grip to lift her from his lap. If she really wants to chase their lust to the end, there's one thing he needs to do before he can begin to seek his own relief. He doesn't know enough about humans to be sure, but he knows from experience that pleasuring his partners before makes it much easier and adds to the pleasure when he enters them.

"Garrus?" Her voice is airy from her arousal, eyes dark as she looks to him in confusion when he sets her on the couch.

"Do humans use their mouths?" he asks, thrumming in his chest as he slides his fingers along the waistband of her pants. "I figured you won't have plates to open, but asari-"

Jai grabs his face and yanks him into a kiss, sucking on his tongue a moment before releasing and chuckling. "Yes, we use our mouths." She gives his mouth plates a quick press of her lips. "But you don't have to if you don't want. Humans can be quite a bit wetter than turians and asari …. And it's an acquired taste."

Chuckling, he gently takes her hands from his face and drops to a kneel. "If your scent is any indicator, I may actually like it better than most others."

Her mouth drops open, but he doesn't elaborate on the way her scent coats his throat with a hint of citrus and spice joining her natural pheromones. While definitely not a turian like he's used to, he can't find reason to complain about the idea of drinking her in.

Finally coming to the decision to trust him, Jai nods slightly and reaches down to open the clasps of her pants. She lets him pull them down, lifting her hips as he drags them and the small bit of clothing beneath down her thighs. As he tosses the pants away, he tugs her hips to the edge of the couch and rumbles at the smooth skin of her pale thighs as he guides them apart. Her scent makes his head spin and he growls at the sight of her cunt.

He sees her bite her lip as she watches his face, but he doesn't see reason for the worry in her eyes and leans in, no hesitation as he licks up her slit. Her hips jerk and she falls back against the cushions as he dips his tongue deeper into her folds, feeling her coating his tongue. He tastes her as he drinks her in, tongue exploring until he brushes against a noticeable, unfamiliar nub. It draws the loudest sound from her, both of surprise and pleasure, and he growls at her reaction, paying attention to the spot without her direction.

He tests different strokes against her, lifting a hand to lay against her bucking hips and hold her down. She grips at his fringe, squeezing and moaning as his thumb dips down to stroke the tiny nub, freeing his mouth to further explore. Drawn lower by the heat of her, he finally slips his long tongue into her, curling when she whines and tugs on his crest. He growls at the way her channel constricts around his tongue, cock straining against his pants at the thought of feeling the same sensation.

"Garrus …" she whispers, panting as her legs clamp down against his face. "I'm close …. You-"

He quiets her with a stroke of his thumb against her nub and rough lick at a rough patch he's found and she pitches a high cry, hand clenching his crest as the other fists the couch cushion. Her sounds stop, her back arching as she stills, and he puts a stronger effort into his actions, willing to force her into a climax if he has to.

She suddenly takes a deep inhale as her body spasms, cunt tightening around his tongue as her release floods his mouth with a stronger taste of her that flows down into the pool of heat blossoming in his own stomach. A thrumming snarl erupts from his throat as he closes his eyes, drawing as much of her in before she whimpers and gently urges him away. He sits back and smirks in pride at the look of subdued, but still completely obvious lust dancing in her darkened gaze.

"Wow," she whispers and he purrs heatedly under his breath as he licks the last of her from his mouth plates. "Ready to keep going?"

Huffing in amusement, he stands and inwardly sighs in relief to be able to finally free his painfully pinned erection. "I should be asking you that."

Jai chuckles as she stands, wobbling at first before reaching towards his pants. She pauses, looking up to him for permission, and he nods, more than ready to have the constricting things off. Grinning at his response, she teases the corner of her lip again as she drags her palm down his clothed cock, watching his face when his breath stutters, eyelids fluttering at the barest of touches to tease his need.

She doesn't torture him further, ignoring his light glare as she busies herself with opening the clasps of his pants. He feels the instant she gets them open against his cock and groans in relief, tilting his head back and closing his eyes to feel the chill of the air against his pulsing heat. He feels her hands hesitate a moment before returning to slipping his pants over his hips and down his thighs, but she stops there.

"Garrus?"

He looks down to her and instantly sees what has her confused and, put plainly, is pretty damn stunned himself.

His cock isn't the same as before. Despite not having sex for some time, he wouldn't remember the way his own body looks, but what stands erect between his legs is far from he knows.

"What happened to it?" he asks, voice taking a bit of a higher pitch as his aroused vocals cut off immediately. "That's not mine." If he sounds slightly hysterical, she doesn't comment on it.

Jai purses her lips, lifting her hand to his cock. She doesn't touch, but he can still feel the pressure of her examination as she looks at him like he's just a patient that's walked into the clinic. It makes him feel a bit like nothing but a piece of meat - quite literally - but he admits that even he has no other way to look at his new penis now.

As well as having the ridges running along the underside, his cock how has a flared ridge along each side just below the head. A set of thinner ones in between thicker, more rounded ridges run along the topside and fade into his knot. He can also be sure that he's bigger than before in more than just girth from the added … features.

"I … kinda like it," she says and he looks up to her, skeptical. "What? It looks cool."

"My old one was perfectly fine …."

She blushes and bites her lip. "Well … maybe this one is better? Won't know until we try it out …."

At that, she reaches out to him and wraps her hand as best she can around his cock, just below the head. Her fingers don't touch completely, but the firm stroke she gives him does well enough at regaining his attention and he groans softly. Lifting her other hand up to him, she strokes him with both hands and he feels his legs tremble.

"Jai …."

She releases him, understanding his plea as she steps back. He thrums, feeling the chill of the air against his hot length and nods to the bed.

"I think we might need to find a way to make this work," he says, clearing his throat. "If you're okay with continuing."

"You kidding?" She grins and turns, rushing up to the bed as he follows. Sitting on the edge, she makes it obvious that she's taking him all in with her blatant up and down. "I can't wait."

That confidence drags a growl from his throat, his hunger returning at her urgency as she pulls him between legs where she sits at the edge of the bed. He leans down enough to let her pull him into a rough kiss of all tongue and hot breath. Her legs wrap around his waist, using her feet to push him closer to her.

They both release needy sounds when his cock brushes up against her cunt, sliding smoothly in their shared wetness. She releases him and he tucks his head beneath her chin, licking and nipping as he feels her grip his length to guide him into place. He growls against her flushed skin when she sets his tip directly at her entrance and waits for that tug of her legs around him before he begins to slowly push.

She whines beneath a sigh as he presses into her, the sensation of her tightness gripping him, pulling him in. He doesn't manage to get himself flush, but pauses to let her get past the sting of size nonetheless. With the way her channel flutters around him, he knows he's not bound to last very long and he closes his eyes when she lays down, letting him glide deeper into her.

"Okay," she whispers to him, squeezing his waist with her legs and he moves, slow and steady.

Trying to appease his body's call to seat himself completely within her sweet heat, Garrus takes just a bit more with each steady thrust into her. She moans with each drag of his new cock along her walls and he loses himself in her sounds and the way she slowly begins to mold to him, fitting him as if they were made solely for the other. He growls at the way she arches against the sheets, hands dropping to the sheets to grip them in tight fists.

"I …." Jai clenches her eyes and bites her lip, bucking beneath him, and he feels her begin to grow tighter. He's already so close, but wants to know what she feels like when she climaxes around him. He'll pull out enough not to force her to knot with him, but he feels like she wouldn't mind him pulling another orgasm from her. "Please …."

Rumbling, voice thick with lust, he slows just enough to get her to open her eyes. "Please?"

He pants as he watches her nod, biting her lip once more as she reaches down to his hands on her hips. "Knot with me?"

Surprise flashes in his expression as he opens his mouth silently. He comes to a complete stop, but speaks quickly when he sees her begin to worry. "Are you sure? Do you know what that means?"

"Well," she says, looking away for a second before returning her darkened gaze to him. "I do. That's why I asked instead of demanded. I want you to want it too."

Could he really lie to himself and her that he didn't? He could, chalking it all up to the rush of sex and nothing more, but there's more between them. They both know it and denying it would make him an idiot.

An idiot who will only ruin what little good he has in this galaxy.

"I want it," he says, purring as he leans over her and presses his forehead to hers.

"I love you, Garrus."

He frowns, turning his head to keep his eyes from her. "No, you don't. You can't." He tries to stand, but she wraps her arms around his neck, gripping tightly. "It's just the sex talking."

"It's not. I'm not one to say stupid stuff during sex."

He shifts to look her in the eyes and rubs his forehead to hers. "Then … tell me when we aren't like this. Tell me again when I'm not knot deep in you."

She smiles, though he can still see the slight sadness in her eyes. Swallowing, that sadness turns into determination and she nods, loosening her hold on him to allow him to stand. "I will. I will say it however many times you want me to." She clenches her inner muscles around him and steals a rough breath from him. "Even when you don't want to hear it too."

Growling, wanting more than anything for it to be true and not just the flood of hormones, Garrus starts to thrust in earnest. He drops a hand to her folds to seek out that nub, smirking in victory when she gasps and jerks in confirmation he found it. She moans and begins to tighten anew when he circles in time with his thrusts, fueling his rushing tide building into a storm at the base of his cock.

With a gasp, followed by a weak whimper, Jai's body arches in the sheets, her hands twisting the sheets beneath her. He feels her cunt clamp around him, gripping him as if not wanting to let him go, and he groans at the sensation, forcing a few more thrusts through her grip before he follows her. He cums harder than he has in a long time and feels himself swelling, locking them together as his blood thrums in his veins, the rush of his climax ringing in his ears. It steals his strength and he has to catch himself on the bed, but she's right there, her arms holding him as they both struggle for air.

"I … love you …" she says, gripping his head and pulling him into a kiss. "I love you right now and I'll love you after."

Garrus stares into her eyes, swallowing against the dryness in his throat. As much as his mind tells him it's untrue, that she'll regret it as soon as they are no longer locked together, he wants to believe. He knows  _his_ truth and if hers changes, at least he will have taken a chance.

He wants to let hope bloom, if even for a moment.

Purring, he repeats the kiss before adding a forehead press. "I love you too …."

**Author's Note:**

> You can come check me out on my [Tumblr](https://squigglysquidd.tumblr.com/) for extra peeks into the Umbrus Nocturni's world!


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